A Punishment to Fit the Crime
by Caprican
Summary: After taking their respective relationships with Ron and Ginny to the 'next level', Harry and Hermione bump into one another in the Common Room and find themselves in a potentially problematic situation.
1. Fireside Chat

**A/N: I found the first two paragraphs of this when I was cleaning up my doc folder and the characters decided to speak to me. It takes place during the trio's sixth year a little after Harry and Ginny start seeing one another. It is really a oneshot that I am breaking up due to length, but if I get positive feedback, I may be coerced into making it longer ;-)**

**Please remember to fave and review for a lowly fanficer!**

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><p>A long languid sigh was the only sound that broke the patterned cracking of the Gryffindor common room fire. Harry ran his hands through his messy hair as he watched the flames lick the air. Everything felt different. Sure he knew it would be but he had thought then it would be a good kind of different, rather than a awkward, almost empty different. However he had expected his first time with Ginny to be, his experiences of his night had not been it.<p>

Movement from behind him, jerked him out of his pensive state. It was well past one in the morning. Not an ungodly hour, but usually later than most would be out wandering. Pulling his wand he raised it sharply, more out of habit than fear. The light of the fire illuminated the ruffle looking figure of Hermione Granger. Upon recognizing her, Harry's face reddened. He hadn't showered after Ginny's hasty exit, simply thrown on clothing and settled back onto his favorite couch in the common room. Would she know what had transpired by simply coming close to him, he wondered. Surely not! He sniffed the air and found all he could smell was the smoke smell of burning wood. Satisfied he lowered his wand. "Hermione?" he asked aloud, inwardly scolding himself for his silly train of thought.

"Oh!" Hermione jumped at seeing her best friend in front of the fire. "I didn't expect anyone to be up so late! I was just coming back from-from the library! Yes, the library! I was up late, you see working on an assignment for Professor Binns. Very important."

"But that essay is due tomorrow," Harry said, a smirk on appearing on his face as he watched his friend tug at her clothes that, upon closer inspection, were in worse disarray than he could ever recall them being.

"So?"

"You did that essay a week ago. I remember you checking over Ron's and mine night before last."

Her eyes widened at the sound of Ron's name and he could almost see her kick herself mentally for her mistake. She looked down at her bare wrist. "Oh Merlin, look at the time! I had better get to bed!"

Inwardly, Harry knew he should have let her go. He clearly looked like he had been ruffled by something and she was showing signs of wanting to run. However, his curiosity on her strange actions got the better of him and before he could think things through, he found himself calling out, "Wait!"

Hermione froze, her right foot on the bottom step of the staircase leading to her dormitory, but did not turn.

"I thought I saw Ron sneak in about thirty minutes back..." In truth, he had hidden from Ron as Ginny had made her quick escape up to her dormitory under the invisibility cloak. Ron, thank Merlin, didn't seem to have noticed Harry at all.

Hermione turned back to Harry, her face painted with shame and—much to Harry's horror—tears shined brightly in her eyes. "Oh, Harry! I think I've really mucked things up."

Harry's brows knitted together and he moved over on the couch to allow Hermione room to sit next to him. "What do you mean? Ron looked rather please with himself when he came up. I thought you two may have made up."

A snort escaped Hermione's mouth as she looked into the flames. "I guess one could say that..."

"Did you two get into a fight _again_?" Harry asked, exasperated. The two had only just begun talking to one another two days prior. Couldn't they stay civil for at least a week?

"Actually, we were up to exactly what you were a little over thirty minutes ago with Ginny."

It was Harry's turn to freeze. His face turned a shade of scarlet that would make any Weasley proud. "I don't know what you're on about but Ginny wasn't—"

"Oh, Harry _honestly_! She has been planning this for weeks! Don't you think I know?"

"Wait, how do you know she's been planning this for weeks when I only just found out tonight?" Harry asked, unable to meet his best friend's eyes.

"Well, she has liked you since second year and I am one of her few female friends."

A grunt was his only reply as he decided the safest route was to change topics. "Wait a moment. Did I just hear you say that you know what Ginny and I were up to and then go on to point out that you and Ron were up to the same thing?"

Hermione blushed, her shoulders slumping as she covered her face in shame. "Yes, we had sex."

"Hermione!" Harry said in a desperate whisper.

"Relax! There is a charm set up on the common room to keep everyone in bed until morning unless they are called on by the one who charmed the room and seeing as I cast the charm..." she trailed but couldn't help herself from adding, "Quite useful actually. It also cancels noise."

"Ah..."

Silence followed the statement as they both let their thoughts wonder back to what they had each experienced before meeting up with one another in the common room, causing them each to look away from one another in embarrassment.

Unable to force herself back up to her bed, but unwilling to let things get awkward, Hermione did what she did best and asked the first question that floated into her mind. "So how did it go?"

Immediately she wished she could take it back as Harry's face turned an odd mixture of green and puce. She quickly held up her hands. "Wait! Never mind! It is none of my bus—"

"No, no. It's alright." Harry ran his hands through his dark hair once more. "It's not like I can talk to Ron about it anyway..."

"No, I suppose not..." Hermione giggled.

"Now none of that!"

"What?"

"If we are going to have this discussion, there will be no giggling of any kind!"

Taking a few moments to school her face, Hermione nodded for him to go on.

"It went well."

"'Well'? Is that it?"

Harry sighed in frustration as he searched for words. "Well, I guess I just thought there would be more, you know?"

"Well, Ginny is a bit flat chested," Hermione teased, barely containing another giggle.

"No that's not it!" A bit of color returned to Harry's face and he stood. "Maybe this was a bad idea. I shouldn't be talking about this."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean that, now get back here and explain." Kicking herself for her ill timed joke, Hermione grabbed Harry's hand to pull him back down and immediately dropped it as a jolt of electricity jumped between their finger tips. Both of them looked at each other of a moment before Harry sat back down, shaking off the moment as a simple act of static.

"So what I mean is, it was good—amazing even—but now I'm having second thoughts." He paused, looking into the fire. "It was like, my body liked what we were doing and while it was happening things were great, but as soon as it was over all I didn't feel that sense of love or happiness that I always imagined would be there. All I felt was a hollow sense of—"

"Regret?" Hermione supplied, her eyes taking on a strange haunted look.

"Exactly. I always thought that if I loved the girl, it would be more than just sex. I thought that was how it would be with Ginny. Instead, I want her physically, but I feel less attached and more obligated..." When his companion said nothing, Harry looked up to see Hermione crying silent tears as she looked into the fire. "Hermione?" He said in alarm kneeling before her on the floor. "What's wrong?"

For a second he wasn't sure she would answer but then her words came out in a soft whisper. "Like I said, I really mucked things up!"

In confusion, Harry looked from her eyes to the spiral staircase that led to the boy's dormitory and back before his face hardened in anger. "Did he hurt you? Force himself on you? Because I swear if he did I will jinx him from here to Merlin's hairy—"

"No!" Hermione's eyes widened. "It's not like that! Well, not in a physical sense I guess. More of an emotional blow I guess. But he didn't force anything, I swear. Ron isn't the type."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, but it didn't quell another emotion he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Then what did he do?"

"He told me he loved me..."

"What?"

"He told me he loved me!" Hermione cried, burying her face in her hands.

Confused, Harry asked, "I think I'm missing something here..."

She looked up at him with a teary glare.

"What? I thought you loved Ron! Isn't that why you, you know..." Harry raised his eyebrows and looked at her expectantly.

"I thought I did! But now that I have, I don't think I do!"

Catching on, Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "You don't?"

"No! You see why it's a problem?"

Harry sat back down on the couch next to her. "I know what you mean. I feel the same way."

"You do?" Hermione sniffed chancing a look at her best friend.

Harry sat forward. "Merlin, I feel like such an _arse!_ I mean I took away her virginity, she gave it me and I feel nothing for her!" To his surprise, a watery laugh escaped his companion. His eyebrows drew together once more. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, Harry, you don't believe that Ginny was virgin, do you?"

"Well, she didn't say as much, but..."

Hermione placed her hand on his shoulder, ignoring a second jolt of electricity as she touched him. "Harry, she lost her virginity to Michael Corner."

After looking at her with wide eyes, Harry said, "But I thought..."

"Did she act like it hurt? Did she bleed after?"

Harry thought on it for a moment. Everything seemed so fuzzy and surreal. "Well, no, but I just figured with quidditch..."

Hermione gave him a skeptical look.

"Oh, bollocks..."

"Exactly..."

Both of them sat staring at the gently flickering flames, silence settling around them once more. Harry put his hand gently over Hermione's shoulder feeling yet another jolt and pulled her into a one armed hug that she snuggled into quite nicely. Kicking himself he couldn't help but marvel at how much better she felt pressed up against him than Ginny had. She was soft and comfortable, where Ginny seemed more than a little bony. She was also several inches shorter than the redhead which meant that instead of being a little taller than him, Hermione was just shy of his height. It made snuggling easier. There was also none of the awkwardness between them. With Hermione, he simply felt calm and whole in a way that he never did with Ginny.

"Harry?" Hermione whispered.

He looked down at her, surprised to see her face only inches from hers. As if draw to her, his eyes flicked quickly down to her half swollen lips and back to her eyes before slowly lowering his lips to meet hers. Instantly, his body flooded with a warm tingling sensation he had only felt once before. The distant memory of himself in Ollivander's wand shop clutching the holly and phoenix feather wand flitted briefly through his mind before it was washed away by the sensation of her soft lips on his. Hermione's fingers snaked into his hair pulling him deeper into the kiss. Instinctively, her lips parted allowing him entrance as her tongue gently met his allowing a moan to escape his throat.

As if awakened by the sound, both of them pulled back, their eyes wide. "Did you just feel...?" Hermione whispered, forgetting the charm.

Harry nodded.

Without warning, Hermione pulled him closer once more and began kissing him with the same fervor as before. Harry couldn't help but be reminded of when she got something right in charms, but had to do it once more just to make sure it wasn't a fluke. A smile spread across his lips.

Pulling back once more, Hermione looked at her best friend with understanding and excitement.

"What?" Harry said, feeling as if he had just downed and entire batch of Elixir of Euphoria.

"It's just...well...that was what was missing..."

With a gentle chuckle, Harry jumped up and pulled her into his arms giving her the tightest hug he could ever have imagined giving another person. Hermione laughed and squeezed him back with equal vigor. Everything had change so suddenly and he wasn't sure why, but things felt stronger with Hermione than they had ever felt with Ginny. Oddly the thought didn't scare him at all.

Suddenly, He felt Hermione stiffen. Pulling back from the hug, one look at Hermione's face made his smile falter. "What's wrong?"

"Harry, we've both just slept with other people."

Blinking, Harry's hands dropped to his sides. "So?"

"So, Ron loves me, Harry! I can't do this to him! You know how he is, especially with you. Things will end badly. And what about Ginny? She has loved you for years. She will be absolutely devastated!"

"I can't just pretend it didn't happen! It's you, Hermione. It's always been you!"

Shaking her head, she began to back towards the staircase once more. "I can't Harry. I'm sorry I just can't!" With that she turned on her heal and dashed up the stairs.

"Hermione! HERMIONE!" Harry shouted trying and failing to run up after her.


	2. Awakening

"Harry, mate," a voice shouted at him.

With a jolt Harry sat straight up, his head knocking against something hard causing his eyes to water in momentary pain.

"Bloody Hell!" the same voice called next to him.

"Ron?" Harry asked groggily, looking around, he saw he was still laying on the couch in the common room and Ron was massaging his forehead curiously. The fire still flickering away in the fireplace as it had been. Memories flooded back to him of his time with Ginny. He must have fallen asleep in front of the fire after she left and not even noticed. Ron had clearly just gotten in from his date with Hermione. Everything after that had clearly been a dream.

Groaning, Harry buried his face in his hands and leaned back on the couch. "What time is it?" he yawned.

Ron looked down at his watch in surprised. "Just after three. Guess I was out later than I thought!" His eyes shifted back to Harry with concern. "Listen, are you alright? You were doing that thing were you yell in your sleep. Were you in You-Know-Who's head again? You kept saying Hermione's name. Is she in danger?"

Unwilling to tell his friend the dangerously vivid dream he had just had, Harry did the first thing that came to his mind: he lied. "It was Voldemort. He was talking to his followers, but than it got a bit weird when Hermione walked in and started dancing a jig right in front of him."

Ron burst out laughing as Harry breathed a sigh of relief that his friend had bought the ridicuolous story.

"So if I was seeing in _his _head, he was probably just dreaming." _Liar, liar wand on fire!_ He scolded himself mentally.

"That's rich!" Ron laughed wiping a tear from his eye. "I'll have to tell 'Mione in the morning." He stood and stretching his long limbs with an almighty yawn. "What are you still doing down here anyway? I thought you went to bed hours ago."

Harry flushed, but raised an eyebrow at his friend. "I could say the same for you."

Ron turned a violent shade of red before nodding at his friend in unspoken agreement. "Well we ought to both be getting to bed, then..."

Harry nodded and followed his friend back up to their shared dormitory. Each of them opted for a morning shower and slipped quietly into their respective four-posters. Harry felt tired beyond belief, yet he could not make himself fall asleep. Every time he tried, his heart would start pounding at the thought of Hermione's lips on his. _What is wrong with me?_ He yelled in his head. _I just had sex with my amazingly beautiful girlfriend and I can't stop thinking about a _kissing dream _about my best friend? I'm bloody bonkers!_

Harry was just about to give up on sleeping through the war in his head and was about to rethink that shower when Ron's voice stopped him.

"Harry?" Ron's voice drifted out of the darkness.

"Yeah?"

"Don't hurt her, okay?"

It took a moment for him to realize that Ron meant Ginny. Harry felt his stomach writhe with guilt. Sure, it had only been a dream of Hermione, but the feel of it was so real, he could feel the guilt of it all weighing him down like a thousand ton anchor around his neck. What was he supposed to say? Actually, I was thinking I rather fancy Hermione instead. Can I switch? It was more than he could bare to shatter the hearts of two Weasleys because of a stupid dream, no matter how realistic it had felt. "I won't," he heard himself whisper.

Somewhere in the darkness, he heard Ron let out a breath of relief as he settled deeper into his covers.

"Hey, Ron?" he said after a few moments.

"Yeah?" came Ron's half asleep reply.

"Don't hurt her either."

Ron chuckled. "Of course not, mate, I love her..."

Harry's heart clenched terribly as he rolled over and hunkered deeper into his pillows. A part of him wished he would dream of Voldemort so at least his mind wouldn't hurt so much.

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><p>Hermione closed the door to the girls shower room quietly as tears raced down her face. The sensation of Ron's and Harry's lips both mingled evilly on her own. A part of her wished that she could work a memory charm on herself so she could forget how amazing it felt to be kissed by Harry and how horrible it had felt to strategically modify both his and Ron's memories before making her hasty escape. Guilt washed over her at betraying both boys in one night. She felt the need to punish herself. She hated herself for what she had done to them.<p>

And she hadn't even done it properly! Instead of erasing Harry's memory of the kisses completely, she had simply masked them as a dream. She wanted him to remember her like that! In case...in case what? He broke up with Ginny and Ron suddenly fell out of love? No, it was a selfish move and she knew it. She wanted him to remember her—even if only in fantasy.

It was all because of that bloody book! She had found it in Flourish and Blotts over the summer. It claimed to be able to help one find one's way to his or her soulmate. Normally she wouldn't be interested in such dribble. The subject matter was far too close to divination for her liking. But due in part to Ginny's badgering and Ron's on again-off-again mixed signals, she had purchased the book with no intentions of even reading it. Once she had finished up her text books, however, she was at a loss, so she picked up the book out of need for something to do.

In the back, was an incantation she had mockingly read aloud to Ginny when the girl had asked her if the book was any good. How was she to know that it had actually worked?

How was she to know it would work with Harry?

Her heart and mind whirled in a storm cloud of if-onlys as she sank to the cold stone floor. If only she hadn't been studying memory charms to use on her parents in the summer...if only she hadn't slept with Ron before she kissed Harry...if only she hadn't been so stupid as to pine after Ron...if only she had let herself see Harry in a different light...if only she hadn't been reading that bloody true love book...if only she had seen that the signs weren't pointing to Ron but to Harry...if only had seen this all sooner...

Not that it mattered. The memory charms were done. The two men in her life would continue to be best mates. Harry would go on with Ginny as if nothing had ever happened—things would never feel perfect between the two, but they would try to make it work. Ron would fall more deeply in love with Hermione and she would try and feel the same way for him. And most important of all, her best girl friend would never know of her betrayal.

As she dissolved further into tears, she couldn't help but realize that perhaps the guilt of hiding the crime was worse than what she and Harry had actually done. Either way she would have suffered. At least with Harry she wouldn't have suffered alone. A moment of weakness almost sent her up to the boy's dormitory to reverse the charms, but instead she simply gathered her knees to her chest in defeat.

A dark laugh rumbled in Hermione's throat, through her tears. She felt so vile and in need of punishment, yet her punishment lay before her in plain sight.

She would _always_ know what she had done.

**A/N**: **I know, evil! Drop me a review or line if you are interested in seeing Harry recover his memories! I am more than happy to continue if I have enough reviews, so here is my shameless plea for feed back! Help this story become less angsty!**


	3. The Morning After

**A/N: Wow! My shameless begging hath paid off. Thank you all for your reviews/faves/watches! I appreciate the support and am extremely flattered. Sooooo...as a reward...I am going to keep this thing going! I don't expect it to be anymore than about ten chapters, but that is quite and improvement from a two shot, yes? **

**Anywho, please keep up the reviewing. It is truly helpful! **

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><p>Harry awoke the following morning feeling as if his brain was fighting a battle with his skull and bruising both in the process. Rolling over in bed he fumbled blindly for his glasses and watch. After slipping the former on, he looked at his watch and let his head fall back against the pillow with a loud groan. It was only six thirty on a <em>bloody six-thirty on a Sunday. <em>Around him he could hear the soft (and not so soft, in Ron's case) snores of the other four sixth years drifting through his half drawn bed hangings. He had only been asleep for over two hours. Most of the others would sleep until well past eleven and wander lazily down to the Great Hall for lunch. But as Harry removed his glasses and hoped in vain for sleep to return and quash the headache from his skull, he realized that the path of unconsciousness was inexorably lost.

Sighing heavily, he grabbed his glasses once more and threw back the covers of his bed, resigning himself to an early breakfast with the nearly invisible opalescent ghosts and the professors—the only ones likely to be up. Frowning at the thought, he quietly gathered his things in preparation for a long overdue shower.

A little over half an hour, Harry lumbered into the great hall looking decidedly more disheveled than usual. His eyes grew wide as he looked up from his half asleep stupor. Either Sundays were busier than usual or Harry wasn't the only early riser that morning. He saw at least half a dozen people at his table alone, pouring over books with bits of toast in their hands. Not wanting the company, Harry was about to head straight for the quidditch pitch when a mane of bushy brown hair caught his eye. He felt a smile creep across his lips as he changed course and made a beeline for his friend.

"Seems a bit crowded in here for the hour," Harry said as he approached the object of what was slowly becoming a fuzzier and fuzzier dream.

"The N.E.W.T.s are this week," she muttered in a very prefect-like manor, not looking up from the bright pink book she was reading.

"Yes, well that explains them, but what are _you _doing up?"

She finally seemed to realize she was being addressed personally, her focus snapped from her book. "Harry! What are you doing up at this hour?" With wide eyes as she hastily forced the book she had been poring over hastily into her book bag knocking over a whole carafe of pumpkin juice in the process. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his wand and contained the spill before it could drench any one of the four other books she had next to the one she had been trying to hide.

Catching the title of the book just before she managed to shove it out of site, Harry smirked at her. "So trying to figure out if Ron's the on, eh?" For a moment, he thought he must have spoken to her in parsel tongue as she looked at him blankly.

"What?"

Harry pointed at her bag before deciding against repeating himself. After all, Ron hadn't _specifically _said anything about their rendezvous the night before, but he had certainly _implied_ that the two were together. "Nothing," Harry said, grabbing a dish of eggs, he began loading his own plate full of food.

Together, the two sat quietly, Hermione munching on a bit of toast as she opened another of the books she had on the table. Harry looked at her with concern, a scoop of eggs halfway to his mouth. Normally, when they were together without Ron, the two would talk about—well anything, really. Things were almost always comfortable. In fact, Harry could only really remember a handful of times that the two of them hadn't talked and it was usually because something bad had happened. Usually, it was something he had done. "Is there something wrong?" he asked, setting down his fork and looking across the table.

Hermione looked up at him wearing a deer in wandlight look. It was almost as if Harry speaking to her was baffling her somehow. "What? No! Nothing's wrong. Why do you ask?" She said brightly at him.

Harry shrugged and shook his head. "No reason. You just seem quiet."

"Just tired," she replied brightly, a fake smile spread across her face. "I was up l-late st-st-studying!" As she said the last words, Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears.

Alarm bells began sounding in Harry's head. "What's wrong?" he asked leaning forward ad placing hand over hers. The friendly gesture of comfort, however, seemed to have the opposite effect.

A spark shocked them both causing Hermione to withdraw her hand as if she had been touched by one of Hagrid's blast-ended skrewts. Tears began falling down her cheeks as she looked at him in horror. "I have to go!" she almost whispered shooting Harry a pained look.

"Hermione wait!"

However, instead of coming to a halt, she let out a pained sound somewhere between a yelp and moan and all but sprinted out of the hall.

Harry looked after her, his brain a tangle of confusion. A part of him wanted to run after her and find out exactly what had her in such a frenzy. Hermione was his friend. _A friend I dreamed about kissing and enjoyed it so much it made me want to leave all thoughts of Ginny behind_, he thought groaning. Even thinking of the dream made his heart race a little faster. Sure, he had always carried a bit of a torch for Hermione over the years, but nothing he had ever dreamed of acting on. After all, she was in love with Ron and Harry was _supposed_ to be with Ginny.

Images of the previous night flooded into Harry's mind. Ginny shifting awkwardly, but encouragingly below him, the feel of her heat around him, her confession of love that he begrudgingly returned. The feeling of her had been incredible, yet empty. He felt love for her, it was true, but it was undefined love—a love in its infancy, not a love of passion. Harry knew that if he tried at it, the love could grow.

_But if I want Ginny so badly, then why can't I stop thinking about Hermione? _he asked himself.

Giving up on his eggs, he made his way out of the Great Hall and through the front doors. This was a problem that would take more than one trip to the quidditch pitch to resolve. Best he get started...

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Scolding herself, Hermione rushed up the marble staircase and didn't stop running until she reached the seventh floor corridor and a space of blank wall. After walking back and forth three times and thinking of a private place where she could spend time undisturbed, she threw open the door. Barely taking into account that the Room of Requirement had transformed into a near exact replica of her room at home, she allowed herself to breakdown completely. How could she expect to keep this secret if she kept breaking down every time Harry looked at her or even touched her? They were friends, after all! Being close, she found that Harry looked at her and touched her on a semi-regular basis. If she distanced herself, Harry would get suspicious.

Then there was the whole matter of Ron to contend with. Pain tore at Hermione's heart as she thought of Ron.

No, now was not the time to release that particular boggart.

For now, she had to figure out just how her relationship with Harry had become so confused and try to find a way to save it. After taking a deep steadying breath, Hermione wiped her cheeks roughly with the sleeve of her jumper and pulled out the book that was the cause of her problem.

Taking a deep breath, she opened to the fifth chapter and made herself comfortable on the bed before she began reading.

_Chapter Five:_

_Preparation and Warnings_

_As noted in previous chapters, this book is not meant to be a quick fix, simple solution or way out. On the contrary, by embarking the path to find your true love you should make sure that you are emotionally ready. In order to prepare, please read the following carefully and take the necessary steps in order to ensure that you are on a stable ground to fully enjoy the wonderful experience that is being truly and deeply in love._

_Step One: Never Embark if You are Attached_

_True love is not predictable. This book simple gives you a type of honing device to give you subtle hints and help you identify the person that is best suited for you. Therefore if you are attached (in a relationship) with someone, it is strongly advised that you disentangle yourself from the attachment before you embark. It is not as if you are saying goodbye forever or even discounting the idea of being with your significant other—after all, they may turn out to be the One! This simply means that you should step back from the relationship and allow yourself to be led. (see meditation help on page 206)_

_If you enter this journey with a set goal in mind (i.e. you expect Mr./Miss Right-Now to be Mr./Miss Right) you may find yourself disappointed that that person is not the one you are looking for. This makes accepting the real One into your life much more difficult. In a few cases, some people have said the incantation only to realize that their spouse was never the right One for them. This resulted in marital discontent and sometimes divorce, as the will to pursue your perfect mate will become near impossible to ignore._

_Step Two: Allow Your Mind to be Open_

_Sometimes the person that you least expect can be the perfect match for you! Our advice? Follow your heart and let the incantation take you to the right person even if they are someone you may never have imagined. _

_After all, that person was in _your_ heart. The spell does not create love or obsession like a love potion or a love spell. It simply opens your heart and eyes to the possibilities that surround you. It will not make you fall for anyone, nor make anyone fall for you. The choice of whether to follow your heart will remain yours._

_Warning One: Always be Honest_

_Once you find your One and decided to place your complete trust in him or her, tell that person how you found them. Often times, the pursuer will attempt to hide their method of finding their One. Secrets are a bad way to start any relationship and can potentially end your relationship with your One if found out at a later date. This will end in nothing short of misery for both parties._

_In other words, don't spent the effort in trying to find your One if you are going to throw it all away on a lie about your method! _

_Warning Two: Permanence_

_Although the incantation will not _force_ you to pursue your true love, once that One is located, your draw will be almost solely to that person. This draw is also entirely irreversible. Your heart will always be attached to that person from the point of the first kiss on. Why? Simple! After the spell is fulfilled, the incantation will no longer be what drives you. _

_As soon as you kiss the person that is your One, your souls will know one another, they will be forever attached and will be attached forever in a way that is reported to be closer than even the bond of marriage. In some cases, couples have even experienced their very magic leaping out to meet their mate's magic at the slightest brush of the hand..."_

Hermione let the book slide out of her hands causing it fall to the desk with a heavy thunk. Tears gathered in her eyes. She couldn't even break the incantation because it had already run it's course.

She and Harry were bonded.

With near frantic behavior, she sprang to her feet and stuffed the book back in her bag. The book hadn't given her much. In fact, it was annoyingly vague. However, she did have a place to start her research. Thanking Merlin, she had finished all her homework ahead of time, she rushed off to the library intent on a full days worth of research.

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><p><strong>AN: More begging, I'm afraid...I needs your feedback! Review please?**


	4. Much Confusion

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait on this one. I have been picking at it for over a week just to get the rhythm right, but I think I was over thinking it just a little. So as opposed to just hacking it to death another time, I decided to relieve a little of the suspense. No H/Hr action just yet, but it is coming! Alittle more build up to get there.**

**This continues right after the last chapter leaves off.**

**Thank you so much for your kind reviews and faves/watches. They do incredible thinkgs to drive me to write, so please keep them coming!**

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><p>The Great Hall was bustling with students by the time Harry came in from his morning flight. Somehow flying always helped helped him organize his thoughts even if it did leave him with more questions. At least with more questions he had a place to start. First on his list for the day, find Hermione. Not that he was ready to tell her all about his dream, but something between them was different and we was keen to find out what had changed.<p>

After a quick scan of the room, and seeing no sign of Hermione, he turned on his heel and walked back through the entrance hall and towards the library. Yes, that is where she would be. That was always where Hermione went to hide.

"Harry!" Ginny said brightly, smiling up at him.

Harry groaned inwardly. "Hey Ginny." Turning to face the red head, he felt a fake smile spread across his face.

Ginny's smile faltered at his cold reaction, but she said nothing.

For a moment, they both looked at the ground blushing awkwardly as each waited for the other to break the silence. Even after his cool ride in the early spring sun, Harry could feel the heat rise on his face as he looked at her and remembered the previous night. Silently he thanked Merlin that Ginny wasn't one for overly zealous public affection (like Lavender Brown, for example). Considering his confused feelings for Hermione, clingyness would have been a bad thing.

"Fancy a turn around the quidditch pitch? I was just heading out to practice a little," Ginny asked finally in a steady confident voice.

Another pang of guilt washed over Harry like a wave. _Why does she have to be so great?_ he thought wanting to pull out his hair. Of _course_ he would rather go out to the pitch! That was the perfect place for him to think and she knew it. _But Hermione would know too and she probably would have been out there with toast and an ear to listen when I was done_, a part of his mind chirped in. Another mental groan swept his thoughts as he desperately tried to quash the thought. "Actually, I need to find Hermione. Have you seen her?"

Immediately, he wished he could grab his words from the air and put them back in his mouth. Though Ginny had never expressed outright jealousy towards Hermione as she had for Cho, the look on her face was clearly reading at least annoyance. "I haven't seen her since yesterday."

Behind his girlfriend's eyes, he could see her hurt and fear at his dismissal warring with her love and need to trust him. Harry felt himself squirm with guilt that he should not feel. After all, Hermione was just a friend. Ginny was the one he was with and they had shared...well...something just hours ago. Somehow he felt as if he had wandered into some sort of girlfriend test. Choose to blow off his feelings for Hermione and go out to the quidditch pitch with Ginny and do whatever it was she had in mind for the afternoon; or he could choose to blow off Ginny and follow his nagging curiosity up to the library where he was absolutely sure he would find Hermione. He felt torn, and Ginny wouldn't quit looking at him with those gorgeous brown eyes long enough for him to think!

"So..." she prompted, trying to decipher his torn expression.

"Actually, Ginny, I just need a little time to think. Can I catch you up later?"

Something seemed to click in Ginny's brain and her eyes filled with tears that she desperately tried to hold back. "Oh! I—well—I'll just be going out to the pitch..." With a swish of her long red locks, she turned and swept across the Entrance Hall.

"Ginny! Wait!"

She waived him away in dismissal before slipping out the front doors.

Growling, Harry turned and punched the wall, cursing loudly as pain shot up his fist and through his arm. Several students on their way to the Great Hall stopped and eyed him apprehensively. Ignoring them Harry began taking the steps two at a time, pulling out the Maurder's Map as he moved. If he couldn't sort through his love life, than perhaps he would check up on Malfoy's movements. It had been nearly a week since he had sat and monitored the ferret—mostly due to having set Kreacher and Dobby to the task in his stead. Today, however, he could do with a little sleuthing.

His eyes darted across the warn paper, searching for his only source of distraction. However, to his vast disappointment, he found Malfoy's dot still nestled in the depths of the Slytherin dormitories having a lie in.

With great effort, Harry wiped the map without crushing it and tucked it safely back in his pocket. So far he had woken up early without needing to, made his best friend burst into tears, made his girlfriend jealous and angry, _then _made her cry.

At a much slower pace, Harry made his way up to Gryffindor Tower, his head pounding as the shadow of his dream taunted his waking mind into near hysteria.

~*\/*~

Grunting with effort, Hermione hoisted a new pile of heavy tomes onto an already dangerously tall stack. She was trying to control the panic that was welling up inside of her. There just _had _to be a solution. She had never made a mistake that she couldn't find some way to correct. Taking a seat at her study table, she pulled forward a large book with faded gold lettering titled _The Workings of Souls_ and began scanning the table of contents. A sigh escaped her lips as she saw five chapters that could pertain to her situation. It would take hours just to get through them all even with speed reading. _Oh well,_ she thought. _Its not as if I haven't been her for five hours already..._

"Hey," a familiar voice greeted her from just over her shoulder.

Hermione let out a squeak of surprise as a pair of freckled arms wrapped around her neck. "Ronald!" She whispered, hurriedly closing the book she had been reading and pushing it under a stack of parchment. "What are you doing here?"

Ron smiled and pulled up a chair next to hers. "I was looking for you. You weren't at lunch."

Leave it to Ron to notice her absence from a meal. "Yes, well, I've been studying." She gestured to the wide array of books that surrounded her.

Ron's eyes traveled to the stacks of books. "I can see that." He tentatively picked up a book nearer him. "_Matters of the Soul and It's Mysteries_?" His red eyebrows rose and disappeared into his hairline.

Feeling her face redden, She snatched the book from him. "It's research for Harry..." she answer truthfully.

Ron's face darkened. Almost a month had passed since Harry had taken the Felix Felicis and retrieved the memory of Slughorn's revelation, so Hermione's sudden interest in souls seemed more than normal. "Any progress?"

Hermione let out a sigh of genuine frustration. "No, nothing! And I've been researching all morning!"

"I'm sure you'll find something. You are the cleverest witch around! You-Know-Who is no match! Plus, the library's never let you down before, eh?"

Hermione shot him a small watery smile. Sometimes Ron's sweetness caught her off guard. In conjunction with the guilt that was weighing on her, it was almost unbearable. "Thanks, but I feel like I am stuck between a rock and a hard place."

Ron took her hands gently into his. "Well, you want to take a break?" His mouth twisted into a crooked grin.

"I can't!"

Leaning forward in his chair, he whispered in her ear. "That's not what you said last night."

A part of her knew that Ron was just teasing her, but Hermione felt her face flush and her blood begin to pump with anger. She was not some harlot! Just because she had been taken in the moment didn't mean that it would happen again. Even the thought of it made her cringe. "Excuse me?" she hissed in a dangerous voice.

Seeming not to notice the shift in mood, Ron continued, "Well, I was just thinking that if you are up for a break you and I could find a cozy spot somewhere and...you know..."

Something inside of Hermione snapped. The rational side of her brain knew that she was overreacting. Ron would expect to be her boyfriend now. He would expect that the activity of the previous night to happen again. He would expect them to grow and be together. It was only rational, only natural.

However, after sleeping with one of her best friends, making out with and then soul bonding herself to her other best friend, erasing both of their memories, and finding herself unable to rectify either situation, Hermione wasn't feeling at _all_ rational. "I can't do this," she said in a tense whisper, pulling her hands from his grasp.

"Well, we don't have to do that, we could always just snog for a bit—"

"No! That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?"

"Ron, now isn't the time for this! I am _not_ going to go gallivanting around the castle with you for a snogging session every time you are bored! We cannot do this! There is too much at stake. We have to help Harry with this mission. We can't afford to distracted by this." She gestured frantically between them.

At the mention of Harry, Ron's face hardened. "So it's about him? Why is it always about him? We can't just always be concerned about _his _happiness. And he has Ginny so why can't we have each other?"

"Well..." Hermione could feel herself being backed into a corner. As annoyed as she was at Ron, breaking his heart was the last thing she wanted to do. "Ron, I just _can't_! I love you, but now is not the right time."

"But I thought that after last night..." he trailed off his face becoming wrenched with unreleased emotion.

She felt a part of her break at the sight. "I'm not saying there isn't a chance and last night did mean something. The timing is just...off..."

To her surprise, Ron looked up at her with a small pained grin. "I guess this just means I will have to fight for you, eh?"

Hermione shook her head. "Why would you want someone as wretched as me?"

Grasping her chin, he forced her eyes to his. "Because we are meant to be together. I can just feel it..." With that, he brought his lips down to quickly brush hers. Hermione felt her gut protest at the brief contact, but before she could push away, Ron was on his feet smiling at her. She watched him make his way back through the stacks and out of the library.

_I just keep making things worse!_ She scolded herself silently.

With a heavy sigh, Hermione sorted through her piles of books, looking for a better distraction. A newer book with a rich reddish brown color titled _Spells of the Soul _caught her eye_._ After skimming the table of contents and locating a chapter on middle age practices of marital soul bonding, she quickly flipped to the correct page. Her eyes darted frantically across the small print searching desperately for something, anything really, to help her out.

"_Up until the late nineteenth century,"_ She read to herself, _"soul bonding was practiced regularly as a way to bond couples in matrimony. Most marriages during and before this era in history were arranged only between pure bloodlines. As a result, non-marital relations were common. In attempt to control blood purity, soul bonds were initiated between couples. It was believed that by doing so, either party would be discouraged from any sort of adulterous behavior as the bond itself inhibits relations with those outside of the bond. _

"_However, studies in the early twentieth century by noted metaphysicist Geoffrey Clark revealed that only those who were truly connected on a metaphysical level were able to sustain the soul bond. If the basis was not concrete, though signs may point towards a bond in its early stages, the bond would be unsustainable making the contract moot. Under pressure from the pure blood elite, Clark developed a charm to detect the veracity of a bond in its early stages (see page 328). Clark's charm's success created quite a stir revealing that over 80% of all soul bonds preformed on arranged marriages are null._

"_This revelation ushered in an era of chaos among those in unhappy arranged marriages. Many began seeking release from their bonds—some through divorce, others through adulterous relations. A new influx of half blood wizards and witches resulted from this era greatly expanding the number of witches and wizards..."_

Hermione skimmed the historical documentations taking note that there was a charm that would test her bond to Harry. She felt a glimmer of hope in her chest. Perhaps the damage she had done wasn't permanent after all.

Flipping to the back of the book, she quickly studied the charm's parameters. It looked simple enough. There was the small matter of a glowing sensation that could attract attention, so she decided to put it aside until she had some time to herself. The charm could also attract some attention to Harry as well, so she supposed that she would have to get him alone as well. Heat rose in her chest at the idea of being alone with Harry. Her attraction to him was growing by the hour and she wasn't sure if being alone with him would be good for either of them—soul bond or no.

Moving to a chapter on dissolving bonds, Hermione continued reading with renewed excitement.

"_In rare cases, some witches and wizards have explored the possibility of dissolving a soul bond that is already verified. Sir Adolf G__ünt__er of Germany discovered after countless tries that there is indeed a way to break the bond in a ritual known as the Seelenspalt (see page 394). Counted as one of the darkest rights, the Seelensplat literally forcefully splits the bond between two people. Due to high mortality risk, however, the right has been banned in most European countries under Decree 14283 of the Dark Arts Defense Treaty."_

Hermione put down her quill and flipped once more to the back of the book to see exactly what caused the high mortality rate. It included highly dangerous dark spells in conjunction with a slue of complicated runes and an overly complicated potion that had to be drunk. She could see why the mortality rate was high as she looked at the diagrams. The thing was so complex that one wrong character would spell the end of the conjurer and his or her subject for sure. She allowed her eyes to drift to the list of potion ingredients below. As she skimmed over the ingredient labeled "werewolf seamen" she snapped the book shut and had to fight the strong urge to vomit.

No, she would not be forcefully separating herself from anyone any time soon.

Glancing at her watch, she was surprised to see that it was nearly six in the evening. She had been at it for over ten hours. Hermione let out a groan as she began gathering her notes and stacking the books up to be resorted into the stacks. All in all she had over thirty-four inches of parchment full on notes, a severe headache, and nothing more than an charm to test whether she and Harry were really bonded. Although it wasn't much to go on, Hermione set off out of the library considerably less worried than when she had entered.

After all, the incantation she had read so long ago with Ginny couldn't be real. She had read it out of a bright pink book in a very unassuming section of Flourish and Blotts for Merlin's sake! Nothing that serious would be kept in such an obvious place. How dangerous could a spell to find love be?

However, as she passed the threshold of the library, a chill ran down Hermione's spine. She wasn't just playing with a spell, she reminded herself. She had moved far beyond simple love and into the realm of messing with souls.

And if Voldemort was any indication, meddling with souls was definitely dangerous.

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><p><strong>AN: More begging, I'm afraid...I need your feedback! Review please?**


	5. The Charm

**A/N: Shorter wait than last time. Hurray! One quick note so we can get on with the goods. I did have a good question in one of my reviews about the timeline. I am trying to keep this story somewhat parallel to events in the books if not completely cannon. I apologize for not making it clear,**** this does take place during the latter part of the HBP. In fact it is the last chapter to happen in that time line (most likely).**

****Also, I borrowed a line from the actual book. It is marked with this-*****

****This line was taken directly from the book _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, _Page 551 of the American Version. It is the property of J.K. Rowling and Scolastic. For a full disclaiomer please see my author page********.****

**Again, thank you so much for your kind reviews and faves/watches. ****They do incredible things to drive me to write, so please keep them coming!**

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><p>"Oi! That's my toast!" Ron groused as Harry accidentally took a slice of toast from Ron's plate instead of his own.<p>

"Huh? Oh, sorry..." Harry said absentmindedly, turning his eyes back to Hermione who was currently shoving eggs into her mouth. He hadn't seen her eat with such speed since the early days of S.P.E.W. "Slow down! There is no class today."

"Yeah, 'Mione," Ron said around a mouthful of eggs. "What's the rush?"

Hermione swallowed hard and didn't meet either of their eyes. "I have an appointment this morning and I don't want to be late."

"An appointment?" Ron questioned, raising a questioning eyebrow. "With who?"

"I'm going to visit Hagrid."

Harry looked at her in surprise. "You're going to visit Hagrid?"

She nodded and continued to shovel food into her mouth. Both of them were continuing to stare at her. "What?"

Harry simply shook his head and poked at his food. Ron looked at the door thoughtfully. "Hey we haven't been to see him in ages! Maybe we could—"

"No!" Hermione shouted. Several students looked up at her. A blush crept up Hermione's cheeks. "I mean, I was planning on visiting him alone. He wanted to go over some research on a few magical creatures I thought might be strong forces in the war. You know how Hagrid is about magical creatures..."

Ron's reaction was what she was hoping for. "I just remembered...I have a potions essay due tomorrow morning."

Harry, however, looked at her skeptically. "Since when do you do research for Hagrid?"

"I'll have you know that I have been doing research for Hagrid since third year. Don't you remember all the legal help I gave him during Buckbeak's trial?" Her back was tall and straight as she picked up her napkin and daintily dabbed at her mouth, her tone slightly icy tone still not looking him in the eye.

"Yes, I know, but—"

"Well, then why is it so hard for you to fathom that Hagrid might need my help?"

"I didn't say that—" Harry began again, his temper starting to rise as she interrupted once more.

"Listen, I don't have time for this. I'm going to be late." With that, she stood and marched towards the door, several rolls of parchment tucked under her arm as she went.

Ron and Harry stared after her in shock. "Blimey, mate," Ron said around another mouthful of breakfast. "What did you do?"

Harry massaged his aching head as he turned his green eyes down the table to where Ginny was sitting then back to his plate. "Seems like a trend with me lately."

Ron followed his gaze. "You should go talk to her."

"Come off it." Harry picked at his eggs. "I don't even know where to start. It's been over two weeks."

"As her brother and your mate, if you don't talk to her soon, I will hex you into next week."

Harry grunted and picked at his plate some more. "I wouldn't even know what to say..."

"Listen, Mate. All you have to do is apologize."

"For what? I didn't do anything!"

Ron shook his head. "Fred and George reckon it doesn't matter. If there is something wrong, you always apologize."

"Maybe you're right." Harry rubbed his head again.

Ron leaned in closer. "You're scar?" he whispered.

"Just a headache. Had it for the past two weeks or so." In truth, he had been suffering from the moment he has awoke from a now foggy dream about Hermione after his not so foggy night with Ginny. He wondered if it had something to do with guilt.

"At least you aren't having nightmares again."

Harry nodded, not really listening as he got to his feet. "I'll catch you up later."

Ron merely nodded and waved him off.

Steeling himself he headed over to where Ginny was sitting at the end of the table. She didn't look up from her plate as he approached her. The tired look in her eyes and her haggard appearance took him slightly off guard. Guilt flooded him once more. "Fancy going for a walk?" he asked, sitting next to her on an empty length of bench.

Ginny looked up in surprise. "Er, sure," she said after a moment's hesitation.

It was more than Harry had expected after waiting two weeks to talk to her, especially since he had put repairing their relationship second to trying to get Hermione to talk to him. But after two weeks worth of the cold shoulder, Harry was ready to give Hermione the space she needed. He was getting the sneaking suspicion that she knew he had dreamed of her and she blamed him for fouling things up with Ron.

In any case, some time with Ginny was warranted. Despite his conflicted feelings, Hurting her was killing him inside. Mending fences with her would make him feel better about his situation with Hermione. He was sure of it.

~*\/*~

By the time Hermione made it to the girl's dormitory she was completely out of breath. The mere action of being cold to Harry was becoming draining to the point of emotional exhaustion—especially when all she wanted to do was push him up against a wall and snog him until they were both breathless. She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to block out the rush of satisfaction that came with even thinking of kissing Harry. _He's like a brother!_ She chanted to herself over and over again. It was a lie that her mind screamed to reject.

As her breathing began to steady out as she opened her eyes. Thankfully almost everyone was outside on a day like this and aside from a few stragglers in the well lit common room, the whole tower was empty. With a flick of her wand, she barred the door and paced over to her bed and looked longingly out the window. The warm spring sunlight filtered onto her skin making it almost impossible to ignore the allure of a nice lazy day by the lake. In her mind she imagined Harry and Ron sitting beneath their favorite oak tree, their books still stacked next to them even though they had probably intended on studying. Without her around, they would likely neglect their studies until far into the afternoon, or abandon them to play quidditch.

Turning from the sun, she moved to her trunk and pulled out a few of the books she had borrowed from the library. Days of research using every spare moment had turned up nothing more than several more references to the verification charm she had found in _Spells of the Soul_. The more she read, the more she feared that she had indeed bonded herself to her best friend—so much so that she had forced herself to stop reading anything other than the verification charm instructions out of sheer fear of giving herself a nervous breakdown or blurting out the secret to Harry by accident.

After over a week of study, she had the wand movement down pack. The proper focus and charm pronunciations were even easier to master. She was had checked and rechecked everything. Short of performing the actual charm on Harry, she was completely ready.

Her plan was simple. Get Harry alone, perform the necessary charm, and wait for the results. Getting Harry away from Ron would be the difficult part, but she had settled on simply sneaking into the boy's dormitory and casting a silencing charm on him while he slept. She would then wake him and drag him down to the shielded common room to perform the charm. If they were not soul bonded, she would simply wipe the encounter from his memory and wait for the effects of the false bond to wear off. If they were indeed bonded, she would simply tell him the truth and wait out the rightful anger and possible rejection that would ensue.

Tonight would be the night and though she was completely certain that all the extraneous details were in order, she planned on spending the entirety of the day rereading all her research and practicing the wand movements. Flipping to the first page of notes, she took a deep breath and began.

~*\/*~

Late into the evening Hermione awoke to an insistent knocking. She looked at her watch seeing it was well after nine and groaned. The girls were probably trying to get in so they could start their nightly rituals of bed preparation. She had not intended to fall asleep! It was almost time for her to perform the charm and she didn't feel even remotely ready. The knock sounded again, this time more loudly. Hermione stood and made her way to the door.

Parvati looked at her with an annoyed expression on her face. "Finally! I've been trying to get your attention for over ten minutes!"

Hermione covered her face in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! I was studying and  
>I must have fallen asleep!"<p>

Parvati rolled her eyes. "Well, Ron is down there asking for you. He said something about Harry meeting with Professor Dumbledore and that it's urgent."

Hermione felt her body go rigid. It had been weeks since either of them had even spoken of the memory that Harry had successfully retrieved from Slughorn and with everything that had been going on she had virtually forgotten all about it. Quick as lightening, Hermione thanked Parvati and raced down to the common room.

"What happened?" she asked Ron as soon as she found him in their favorite chairs by the fireplace.

Ron looked up at her. "Harry got another summons from Dumbledore. It sounded urgent, so he reckons it might be a," he looked around the emptying common room, "a Horcrux."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "How long has he been gone?"

"Just over half an hour. I sent a message to Hagrid, but he said you hadn't been down to see him in a week, so while I went to the library I asked Parvati to check your room. I only just got back."

"Listen, I can explain..."

"Explain why you lied about going to Hagrid's and ditched us to hang out in your room alone?" His face was red in anger. "Listen, I get that you are trying to avoid me, but what did Harry do?"

Hermione looked away. "I'm not avoiding either of you. I've just been busy st—"

"Studying, we know." Ron turned his attention to the empty fireplace.

Hermione was seconds from telling Ron everything. He was one of her best friends after all. The relief of having someone to share her secret with would be worth the anger and jealousy she would surely subjected to. Taking a few steadying breaths, she stopped herself from seeking his comfort selfishly. She didn't want to hurt him. That was the reason for the deception in the first place.

The awkward silence was only broken when Harry burst back through the portrait hole and asked them to wait as he sprinted up to the sixth year boy's dormitory.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a puzzled look as he came whirling back into view.

*****"I've got to be quick," Harry panted. "Dumbledore thinks I'm getting my Invisibility Cloak. Listen..."

Quickly he launched into an explanation of everything he'd experienced in the past hour. Hermione gasped in horror as he told them where he was going and why. With great effort, she kept her questions to herself. She even kept herself from interrupting as he handed Ron the remaining Felix Felicis and explained how he wanted them use it. But as he made his way through the portrait hole, Hermione couldn't stop herself rushing after him.

Harry heard footsteps behind him and knew exactly who it was. "Hermione, I said I don't have time to argue!" he whispered frantically, turning to face her just as she rounded the corner. However, he stopped short when he noticed her wand pointed directly at his chest. Hermione was one of his closest friends but that didn't stop a slight tingle of fear from flashing through his mind at the site. He had seen what she could do with that wand after all.

Advancing on him with a determined stance, she waved her wand in a complicated manner while muttering words he had never heard before. Suddenly, a warm sensation took over his body, making him feel light and heady. A warm golden light enveloped him making his skin glow. He looked over at Hermione in surprise. She too was enveloped in the same golden light, her face shown with a mixture of what he could only interpret as dread and happiness. "What was that?" he asked breathlessly, feeling as if he could run five miles in less than a minute.

For a split second, she considered lying to him and telling him that it was a protection charm to help keep him safe; but she couldn't bring herself to keep the secret from him any longer.

Taking two steps forward, Hermione threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a searing kiss. He felt a strange electric shock tingling through his body as they touched and after a moment of shock, he found himself returning the kiss with more passion than he could ever remember feeling with Ginny. His arms snaked around her body and he lost himself in the feeling of comfort and familiarity of her embrace, allowing his lips to feast hungrily on hers.

Suddenly, the dream shot to the front of Harry's mind and he broke the kiss, his breath coming in gasps. He looked down at her, searching her brown eyes for answers that had been teasing at the edge of his conscious mind for weeks. "What was that?" he repeated, forgetting his prior urgency as he reveled in the tingles running up and down his body at every point she was touching him—and they were as close as two clothed people could get.

"Make it back to be alive and I will tell you everything," she whispered, leaning in to give him one last quick kiss before pulling away. "Now go and we will take care of everything here."

Harry nodded and took off at a flat sprint towards Dumbledore, trying desperately to focus on the task at hand. Emotions were swirling within him as the details of his so called dream of Hermione began to swim to the forefront of his mind. He could recall the feel of her lips and the elation that was so unlike anything he had felt with Ginny that night. Everything had been so right, so real—more like a solid memory than a memory of a dream.

His mind began to race over Hermione's behavior over the last two weeks: her strange disappearances, her random outbursts of tears, her inability to stay in the same room with him unless it was entirely necessary, her cold attitude towards him. With every step he took, he was becoming more and more certain he hadn't dreamed his night with Hermione or his declaration of love to her.

But if it wasn't a dream, than why did he think in was in the first place?

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><p><strong>AN:Feed the hungry feedback beast! Review please?**


	6. Moment of Truth

**A/N: WOW! Two updates within 24hrs! What can I say, I am feeling inspired. In this one we take a bit of a jump forward in time to the beginning of book seven. Pardon any errors. I am unbetaed and I wanted to get this one out sometime today. **

**Again, thank you so much for your kind reviews and faves/watches. ****They do incredible things to drive me to write, so please keep them coming!**

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><p>Harry collapsed heavily on his bed in the smallest bedroom of Number Four Privet Drive. He had only been home for a week and he was already dreading the idea of spending another week under the watchful eye of his relatives. After convincing them that going into hiding was the best course of action, they had taken to actually talking to him. Whereas he had usually been restricted to his room when not doing chores on his summer holiday, he now found himself hiding in his room. In fact it was his second favorite activity.<p>

Currently, he was engaged in his number one favorite activity: watching the window for any sign of Hedwig. Getting to his feet, he pace to the window and let out a deep sigh as the sky remained woefully empty.

In the chaos that followed Harry's fateful mission with Dumbledore, Hermione had refused to be in the same room with him, let alone talk to him. Sure, she had been there with him at the funeral and even spoken with him about the Horcrux hunt just after he had broken things off with Ginny. He had even planned to corner her on the train ride home, but she took a compartment with Ginny, Lavender, and Parvati, then apparated away as soon as they reached platform nine and three quarters. When he asked Ron where she had gone, he simply replied that she said she would see them both at Bill and Fleur's wedding.

As soon as he reached the Dursley's, he had pulled out a length of parchment written her demanding to know what was going on. But he was met with nothing but silence. In response, Harry began writing her once a day asking for any scrap of an explanation. Hedwig was beginning to get angry with him, he could tell. It took her just under a night to get a letter to Hermione and fly back empty clawed. As soon as she flew in the window, Harry would allow her to rest just long enough to send her back to Hermione's with increasingly irate letters. He hadn't felt so cut off since the summer before his fifth year and it showed in his increasingly desperate tone.

Tearing his eyes from the empty sky he ran his hands through his messy black hair as he paced back and forth across the small space in his room. He had sent Hedwig with a particularly angry letter the night before and it was nearly half past four in the afternoon. She had never been gone for that long. A small part of Harry hoped (and feared) that a forthcoming reply might be the cause of the long wait, but he tried not to think about it. If Hedwig came back without a reply once more, he would simply be even more frustrated than usual.

A low growl escaped his throat as he flopped onto his bed and let his eyes wonder over the memorized patterned cracks in his ceiling. Usually, he could just let his mind wander and forget about what was going on around him—almost like meditation. But all he could think about lately was Hermione. Nothing helped. It was almost as if the separation from her was creating a physical ache.

His skin was becoming paler and his eyes were lined with dark circles. Even the Dursleys had noticed his deterioration. His uncle had made a comment about he had better not be sick until after they left because he was not about to let Harry visit a doctor on his tab. Harry had simply rolled his eyes and retreated back to his room to look for Hedwig once more.

A sudden flap of wings made his heart leap with excitement, drawing his attention back to his window. Hedwig flew gracefully in, and held out her leg with an annoyed look in her eye. Harry froze at the sight of the letter attached to his owl's leg. He reached out with trembling hands and untied the letter. Everything seemed to dissolve around him as he carefully broke the wax seal and read.

_Dear Harry,_

_I always knew you were persistent, but honestly! Sending out your poor owl every single day and not giving her a chance to rest or hunt is inhumane! You must promise not to send her out for the next few days at least. When she got here, she was so tired I had to hand feed her water. Killing your owl will not make me respond faster!_

_I know I have a lot of explaining to do, but I still don't think it is appropriate to do this all through post. We don't know who could be watching your mail. Not to mention this is not something one just writes in a letter casually. We need to talk face to face. I had planned on waiting to talk to you until we meet for the wedding, but I don't think I can wait that long. I am beginning to feel the effects of being away from you on a scale I hadn't anticipated, so I think it would be best if I visited you before I go to Ron's._

_Since I imagine that your aunt and uncle won't be too keen on having me there, I will try to apparate directly into your room tonight around six-thirty. I should be done with my preparations by then, so I can go directly to Ron's after we talk. I would prefer we spoke elsewhere to minimize interruptions, but seeing as you can't leave their house, I think that this is the best course of action._

_I understand that you are upset with me for my behavior, but I haven't been ignoring your owls and I don't think that such strong language is warranted just yet._

Harry cracked a smile at her reference to his profanity filled letter the previous evening.

_I know that I haven't been replying, but it has nothing to do with ignoring you. I have been rather busy preparing for our adventure this year. _

_Looking forward to seeing you soon!_

_Love Always,_

_Hermione_

Questions began to whirl about Harry's brain like a flurry of freshly caught pixies, but he pushed them aside as he noted the time. It was almost five. He had just over and hour and a half to get himself and his room in order. Books and newspapers topped every available surface and there was thick layer of discarded clothing on the floor. A layer of stubble covered his jaw and he hadn't changed clothes since the day before yesterday.

Not for the first time, he cursed the fact that he was still weeks away from being able to use magic at anytime. He would have to tidy up the muggle way. Taking a deep breath, he began scurrying about his small room in attempts to make it at least halfway presentable before he hit the shower. All the while in his head he chanted, _She'll be here soon, she'll be here soon,_ in attempt to keep himself calm.

~*\/*~

Taking a deep calming breath, Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes and glanced up at the softly lit windows of her childhood home for what would probably be the last time. Performing the memory modifications on her parents—while heart wrenching in and of itself—reminded her of when she had turned her wand on Harry and Ron only a month or so before. She fought to school her expression back to one of indifference as tears threatened to overtake her once more.

She had to be strong. After being apart from Harry and Ron and Hogwarts, she had begun thinking about what she had done. Sure kissing Harry and stealing him away from Ginny was wrong, but the more she examined her reasoning, the more faulty her logic behind covering up the incident became. She hadn't modified Harry's and Ron's memories out of concern for Ron and Ginny's well being. Instead of acting selflessly as she had convinced herself she had, Hermione was beginning to realize She had done it out of fear—fear that she might lose them all. They were her only friends. The only ones she had had her entire life. If she did something to offset that delicate balance and lost all three of them in one fail swoop, she wasn't sure she could handle it. So in attempt to keep the friends, she has fouled things up enough that she might just risk losing them all anyway.

After all, she had deceived them, betrayed their trust, led Ron on, broken up Harry and Ginny, and then ignored them all. Hermione massaged her forehead with the balls of her fingers. _If ever I thought I couldn't make a bad situation worse..._she mused bitterly, pulling her wand from her back pocket.

It was six-thirty on the dot. The time to face the magic had come. She only allowed herself the hope that somehow Harry would forgive her. If he, at least could forgive her, than she knew that she could handle the rest. She had no right to even hope, she knew, but it was the only thing that allowed her to muster the courage to sink into the sensation of being squeezed through a tube and reappear in Harry's tiny bedroom.

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Harry had tried to prepare himself for the barrage of mixed feelings he would feel when he saw Hermione, but when he drew the curtains of his bedroom closed and heard the soft pop of her apparition, all his preparation seemed for naught. He was prepared to feel angry, indignant, annoyed., hurt even. His best friend (and maybe something more) was keeping something from him. The reality, however, took him beyond any of those thoughts and spun him into a state of confusion he had never before reached.

Even before turning to greet her, Harry felt a sudden rush of warmth fill his body as if he had been in the presence of dementors for the past week and someone had filled his room with a powerful patronus. Harry staggered forward and looked at Hermione with new eyes, drinking in the relief and heartbreak mingling in her eyes. He felt drawn to her like a magnet as Hermione met him in the center of the half lit bedroom and pulled Harry to her, capturing his lips hungrily. Electricity shot through his veins as he wrapped his arms around her and clung to her like a drowning man grabbing rock in an angry sea. The kiss was everything he felt and couldn't convey—confusion, relief, happiness, and need.

When Hermione pulled back, leaving them both breathless, he could barely stand. He looked down into her brown eyes searching for the source of his sudden need, saying nothing.

"I didn't realize how much I missed you," Hermione whispered, her cheeks flooding with color as she backed off and took her seat on the bed.

As soon as their contact broke, the feelings of anger and annoyance returned from before. He motioned for her to put a muffliato charm on the room which she did with a flick of her wand. "Well, you have a bloody funny way of showing it!" He growled dangerously at her.

Hermione looked down at her palms. "I'm sorry! I was trying to give you time to think—I needed to think! So much has happened!"

"So that justified avoiding me? Hermione, please clarify the past month and a half for me, because frankly I'm lost." He stood and paced in front of her angrily. "You avoid me, talk down to me, hide things from me, lie to me and then kiss me—_twice_? Tell me how that makes _any _remote shred of sense?" He stopped and looked at her. She was still staring at her palms.

"Do you remember your first night with Ginny? You fell asleep on the couch and Ron woke you up?" she whispered, still not looking at him.

Harry blushed at the memory. "Yeah?"

"And you had this dream?" Hermione chanced her first glance at him.

"How do you know about that? I didn't even tell Ron!"

"Because it wasn't a dream..." Tears began pouring down her cheeks as everything about her modifying his and Ron's memories and her reasoning spilled from her lips in a flood. She told him about how she had been researching for her parents and how the charm was reversible. She told him about her panic and the feelings of guilt. Everything about what she had done that night broke from her with ragged gasps as the truth behind her lies ooze from her like the poison from an infected wound.

Harry's face became more flushed in rage, the longer she went on. He had to keep clenching and unclenching his fist as he fought to keep himself from lashing out at her. Every cell in his body screamed out in betrayal. His best friend, the one person he trusted never to betray him and altered his mind. And for what?

"Harry, I didn't think!" she pleaded. "I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing for you and Ginny and Ron and I could live with the loss as long as you were happy!"

Harry let out a derisive laugh. "Well, that you didn't think is clear! Who are you to decide what makes me or anyone else happy for that matter?" He spoke up finally after her fifth apology. He pulled out his desk chair and rested his elbows on his knees as he tried desperately to control the anger that was causing his hands to shake uncontrollably. She had stolen something from him. "I want it back."

"Want what back?" Hermione sniffed.

"My memories! I want you to put it right!" he shouted, glaring up at her.

Hermione looked at the floor in response. "Harry I will, but there is something more you need to know."

"More?" Harry shouted in surprise.

Hermione nodded and began recounting her trip to Flourish and Blotts with Ginny. She told him about the book and how she had thought it was a joke when she said the incantation. She told him about how she had forgotten about it until the night they had first kissed. She explained all of her research on the bond and how she had desperately looked for a way out, but when Hermione came to the part about the verification spell her, voice caught in her throat and she fell silent.

"And?"

Hermione held up a finger for him to wait.

"Hermione," Harry said, the same panic she had experienced rising in his voice by the second. "Tell me!"

Hermione swallowed and looked him straight in the eyes. His anger, though still tangible, was almost completely hidden by the fear shining in his eyes. "On the night you left with Dumbledore," she continued, her voice strained as she tried to speak above a whisper, "I performed the charm."

"That's what you did in the corridor before I left?"

She nodded and did not break eye contact.

Harry sucked in a deep breath as he remembered the gleam of golden light emanating from his skin. "What were the results?"

"Well, according to my research, if the bond is false nothing happens. If there is a bond, both parties exude a bright golden light that confirms the bond."

"So in essence, we are married?" Harry choked out.

Hermione nodded.

Both of them sat there staring at one another for what seemed like ages as the sun slowly sunk below the earth leaving them both in the shadowy room lit only by the dim light of his digital clock. Harry supposed there could be worse things than being married to Hermione at the age of almost seventeen, but at the moment—as her betrayal was still fresh in his mind—he was having a hard time think of one.

A shout from the door broke them from their revere. "Boy, I don't know what you are playing at by not coming down to dinner,"Uncle Vernon bellowed, "but I will _not_ have your Aunt serving you in your room, you lazy layabout! And just because you didn't eat with us doesn't mean you can get out of cleaning up! Now get your good-for-nothing self down to the kitchen this istant! Your Aunt and I have other things to do!"

Harry turned to Hermione with a conflicted look on his face. "I need you to leave. I haven to get down there before he breaks in the door or I make up my mind if I'm going to kiss you or curse you into next week." He applauded himself inwardly for the calm sound of his own voice.

"I mean it boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted again. "If you aren't down here in five minutes, forget Lord Voldywhosits! I will kill you myself!"

"Remove the silencing charm, please," Harry said in the same level tone.

"Harry, I—"

"Now it is _your _turn to wait! Now leave!"

Fresh tears rolling down her face, Hermione nodded. "Just one more thing..." she said, turning her wand on Harry. After a series of very complex movements, Harry felt the hazy veil that obscured the memory of his first kiss with Hermione lift frim his mind. He staggered back catching himself on edge of his wardrobe. Everything came flooding back to him in a rush and he couldn't help but smile. "Thank you," he choked out, closing his eyes as he remembered.

A sad watery smile spread across Hermione's face and with a flick of her wand the silencing charm was lifted and she had vanished.

Harry looked in his bedside mirror and scrubbed at his face before unlocking the door. "I'm coming!" he shouted, making it to the kitchen in record time and throwing himself into the menial task of scrubbing the dishes.

"'Bout bloody time!" Uncle Vernon groused, shoving his empty plate roughly at Harry and resuming his examination of the idiotic television show he, Dudley, and Aunt Petunia were watching.

Slipping his hands into the scalding hot bubbly water, Harry mentally went over everything he had just learned. He wanted nothing more than to say he never wanted to see Hermione again. But as the warmth of her presence began to fade from him, leaving him feeling cold once more, he felt himself missing her once more.

Harry chucked a plastic cup into the water, sending bubbles everywhere, annoyed that as much as he wanted to wring her neck, Hermione was the only person he wanted to see; because, even after all she had done, she was still his best friend and he loved her. Now he just had to decide what to do with that love...

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><p><strong>AN: Keep the chapters flowing by feeding me inspiring feedback! Don't make me beg again because I will! ;-)! Review please?**


	7. One Step Closer to the Edge

**A/N: Appologies for the long wait! Ihad a case of writers block so big it could have killed an elephant! Once that was over, I wanted to get a few chapters ahead so I could keep posting without too many delays. Rest assured that I will finish this soon!**

**From now on I will be taking tiny jumps in time just because parts of this parallel cannon and I would rather not rewrite the books verbatum (apparently, that's plagarism! Go fig!). So I'm not going to go over the seven Harrys or anything like that.**

**Again, I have no beta, so please forgive any spelling/gramatical errors.**

**Thank you all again for your continued support through reviews, follows, and favorites! I appreciate each and every one of you that have done given me feedback and/or simply stuck with me through my long droughts. I am inspired by your tenacity!**

**Without further ado...**

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><p>Harry took a deep breath of smooth English countryside air as he peered out over the wall of the Weasley garden. Beyond the small crumbling brick divider the apple orchards were heavy with un-dropped fruit waiting to be picked. Tufts of tall grass licked at their trunks despite all of Mrs. Weasley's attempt to tame the stubborn shoots in preparation for the wedding. Something about the atmosphere, in its untamed glory, was like a salve to his aching thoughts.<p>

Since his arrival at the Burrow two days prior, Harry's thought process had been kicked into overdrive. Between Mrs. Weasley putting them all to task, Hermione trying to get him to talk to her, Ron trying to suss out why his two best friends weren't talking, and Ginny attempting to act as if it weren't painful to be around him, Harry wasn't sure how to deal with anything. It seemed as if his life were a house of cards just waiting for a strong wind to cave it all in. Harry ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes, willing his mind to focus. As he did, however, his heart began dancing nervously in place indicating that he wasn't alone.

"Mind if I join you?" Hermione whispered from just over his left shoulder.

Not even opening his eyes, Harry nodded and sat down on the wall in front of him hearing her do the same. He was struggling to hate the feeling of warmth that seemed to overtake him every time she was near almost as much as he hated that he could feel the sorrow of his not talking to her through their link. The warmth and love made him want to soar, while the sorrow made him want to do anything to make it better. It was a little too close to being controlled, mastered.

"Harry?" He could hear the tears in her voice without even looking. "Are you ready to talk to me?"

Harry took a deep breath and stared up at the Burrow—home of his ex-girlfriend and first real friend, both of whom weren't likely to talk to him once they found out. "You know," he began, his voice low and heavy, "the second you undid the memory charm, I wanted nothing more than to strangle you."

Hermione looked at her trainers trying to fight back the flood of tears that was building in her eyes. "That's understandable," she said in a small voice that almost disappeared in the soft summer breeze.

"But I also wanted to chase after you because being around you makes everything hurt less." He still wasn't looking at her as he picked up a stray blade of grass and began fiddling with it.

Not knowing what to say, Hermione simply watched her best friend and waited. Sure, she wanted more than anything to let the analytical and logical side of her brain take over and leap into a long winded explanation of how they would push through this and it would all be alright. But the intuitive side of her, the part that she rarely listened to because it got her into situations like the one she was currently in, overruled her need to analyze the situation and forced her to hold her tongue.

After a few moments, Harry spoke again. "I see you haven't told Ron or any of the other Weasley's about us."

"I thought it would be inappropriate, you know, considering all they've got going on," she explained.

He nodded and suddenly turned to her, taking a deep breath as if he were going to lay into her, but at the last minute, he stood and paced a few times along the edge of the garden, running his hands repeatedly through his shaggy hair. "Bloody hell!" he said in a fierce whisper. "How is this supposed to go? I mean, I can't even look at you without wanting to throw you down and snog you senseless, but at the same time I can't help but be furious!" Suddenly everything he had been thinking was spilling out of his brain in rapid succession. "I mean, do you know what danger you are in now? Being the wife of the Harry _fucking_ Potter! You have always been so important to me. You know me better than anyone and that alone put you in danger, but then you went and painted a bloody target on your forehead! They will know that I will do anything for you and they will try and take you away from me. It is like history repeating itself!"

In a moment of Ron-like confusion, she responded, "You've had a wife before?"

His green eyes full of fire, Harry paused in his pacing only long enough to glare at her. "I have lost every family member I have ever had, Hermione!"

Her thoughts drifted swiftly over Dumbledore, Sirius, and finally rested on James and Lily. Her heart almost stopped as a new waive of guilt washed over her. "If I could take it back, I would," she whispered, her voice full of reflected heartbreak, "but I can't..."

As his pacing slowed, Harry stopped ten feet away, his back to his soul-bound wife. An odd sensation crept through him. Through the bond, he could feel Hermione's tears as if they were his own, leaving wet trails down his cheeks. Even with his anger rising, he felt a sudden flow of guilt for having yelled at her. He fought back flood of anger at himself for not being able to hold up his anger before he gave up on the confusion of it all. "Listen," Turning, Harry took a few steps back and reached for her hands. "I can't honestly say that I forgive you yet. It is still too much—what with the memory charms alone considering I have had to deal with bloody Voldemort in my head from time to time. Not that I;m saying you are comparable, but you had to know how I of all people would react to any sort of tampering with my mind after what happened with Sirius."He took a steadying breath as he tried to stop the lump from closing his throat. "But that's not even the whole bloody bad picture."

Hermione looked up at him, staring into his vibrant green gaze and trying her best not to crumple under his scrutiny when suddenly, he dipped his head and brushed his lips gently against hers. The suddenness of the touch sent the sharp electric shock through them making them both shiver. Like before, Harry pulled her closer, kissing her with a hard determination. Giving her all his anger and frustration, not caring that he could taste the salt of blood from one of them as a lip split under his ferocity, not caring that they would probably both be bruised in the morning. All he wanted was to kiss her and feel the elation of proximity while giving her a taste of his famous temper.

Then, as abruptly as he took her lips, he stopped the kiss, their ragged breath echoing in the stillness of the late night. "The bad part," Harry said hoarsely, "is that I would die if anything happened to you because of me."

Hermione let out a small sob and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a sound hug as she cried into his shoulder.

"We can't tell anyone," Harry said after a long silence. "No one can know about us until after this is all over."

She nodded against the soft cotton of his shirt.

"We have a mission."

Again she nodded.

"Not even Ron can know."

"Especially not Ron," she agreed, her voice filled with dread at the thought.

Harry nodded before releasing her from his grip and walking back toward the dark silhouette of the Burrow.

"Harry?"

Stopping halfway to the door, he turned and looked at the still distraught woman coming toward him, carrying a rubber-banded bundle of parchment that he hadn't seen her holding before. "These are the notes on my research of the bond. There are things in there that I think you should read about."

Taking the bundle of paperwork, Harry tucked it under her arm before resuming his course.

Hermione watched him leave, feeling a weight lifting from her chest as he walked away. Things were far from fixed, of that she was certain. However, he hadn't stormed of in an angry huff or called her any of the degrading names she had called herself in her head. Through the tenuous link of the bond, she could feel his sense of worry beginning to overcome the anger that had drawn her down to the garden to speak with him. Things were on the mend but the looming shadow of complications still darkened her thoughts as she too made her way back to the Burrow.

~*\/*~

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><p><strong>Thanks again for reading and sticking with me! Reviews feed the flame of inspiration, so don't forget to review! :-D<strong>


	8. I'm in Trouble, I'm an Addict

**A/N: Yay new posting! This one feels a lot less force to me since my writers block is temporarily lifted. No I took that big jump we talked about into the heat of the Horcrux hunt. The first part of the chapter is also in the view of Ron (hope that's not too big of a turn off for you all). I just felt we should check in on Weasley brain. Also, there is a touch of content change (no lemons yet, though there will be some in the near future!) I do at one point use the word 'erection' but there is nothing explicit...yet... Just thought I would warn you! **

**Rest assured I will either make the actual lemony goodness a separate post, or warn you in big bold letters so you can skip it if you wish.**

**Again, thank you to all of you lovely people who write me uplifting reviews! I am attempting to PM you all with my appreciation, but some of you have disabled your PMs. So if you want gratis from me, please enable and let me know. OTHERWISE, I will leave you to read (or not read) my eternal gratitude at the beginning of each chapter! Also, thank you for the follows and faves. You guys all keep me going!**

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><p>Ron stood at the mouth of the tent, carefully picking up small twigs from the heavily littered forest floor before shredding them into tiny sheds and letting them fall in a small pile of tinder. The muscles in his jaw and neck felt stiff with the tension of keeping his mouth shut and he tried desperately keep his mouth shut. Around his neck, Ron could hear the weight of the golden locket pulling him deeper and deeper into the haze of suspicion as the loud gurgling of his stomach and the soft murmur of voices serenaded his slow decent. Try as he might, he could shut neither out. Even worse, Ron couldn't tell which of the three nagging annoyances were making his anger worse.<p>

Ever since the trio had fled from the Burrow on the night of Bill's wedding, things hadn't been quite right between the three of them. At Grimwald place Ron had tried repeatedly to get Hermione's attention, going out of his way to practice better table manners and treat her with kindness. He even saw Harry raising an eyebrow at his behavior every once in a while. Yet all his efforts had so far been in vain. Hermione always seemed more distracted than usual with stacks of books, or cleaning, or changing the subject to talk about their mission or doing anything that kept them from discussion what had happened between them during the school year.

After the debacle at the ministry, he had expected things to get better. The trio was one Horcrux closer to defeating You-Know-Who—and at first it did seem like things were going more in his favor. Hermione seemed almost furious with Harry that Ron had been hurt and even more frustrated at the lack of direction that their best friend seemed to offer. Ron could almost feel himself getting closer to her. There was connection there, he was sure of it! But as soon as his health improved, the chasm separating himself from his best mates began to grow. Lack of food coupled with the incessant moodiness accompanied by wearing the locket seemed to make his tense conversations with the woman he was trying to woo even more strained.

His mind drifted back to the previous evening when Harry had slipped out to gather wood and relieve himself.

"Hermione, he has _always_ had a plan! Admit it! Even when he thought bloody Malfoy was the brains behind the Chamber of Secrets he had a plan!"

"Actually, that was me—" Hermione began only to be cut off.

"Alright, so it was your idea. That's the point isn't it?" Ron gestured wildly as if the point were obvious.

Blinking, Hermione looked more tired and annoyed than convinced, but she sat down at their empty table with a sigh and she tried to make more food from a handful of bread crumbs leftover from the previous night's dinner before carrying on. "What exactly is the point I seem to be missing?"

"My point is, Harry is put on this mission and is supposed to figure it out and make a plan. He is terrible at making plans on his own, so Dumbledore had to have given him something. If he did, than Harry is holding out and making us suffer for nothing."

"Now hold on just a moment! Harry would never do that! He didn't even want us to come with him remember? Why would he want us to suffer?" The color was rising rapidly on Hermione's pale cheeks.

"Fine, then there's option B."

"And what exactly is option B, Ronald?"

Lowering his voice, Ron walked forward and placed his fists onto the table leaning inches from his companion's ear. "Option B? Dumbledore died before he could really tell Harry what mattered, the final piece to the puzzle. So all we are doing out here is wasting time because Harry doesn't know what to do and neither do we. All we have are a few unrelated clues and a handful of hunches that go no where."

Hermione stood before him with anger shining in her tear-filled eyes in a way he hadn't seen in months. It was the same sort of angry passion that she showed when they had argued at Hogwarts. It felt real in a world that was nightmare. "Listen to me, Ronald Billius Weasley," she said in a dark growl as she jabbed him in the chest with her finger. "If Dumbledore said that Harry is the only hope—even if I didn't know that he could win—I would follow him to the end of the Earth to help him stop You-Know-Who. Dumbledore believed in Harry and so do I! It hasn't always been someone else with the plan and you know it! What about Malfoy sixth year? What about when he heard the snake second year? What about when You-Know-Who came back at the end of fourth year? Sure he's had help and will always need help! That's why we're here."

"Well, right about now, when I am sitting here starving, it doesn't seem that he is finding anything out fast enough." Ron pushed away from the table and started pacing, the weight of the locket heavy around his neck. "Come on Hermione! We don't have to stay with him. This is his battle, not ours! We could go back and work for the Order! At least then we would have a warm place to sleep and food."

For a split second, Ron thought he saw her cave just a little. He had heard her chills in the night. He knew that she was always cold and hungry. But even as the flicker of weakness brushed her features it was followed by a wave of what looked like pain. "No," she whispered. "I—no we—could never leave him. He is our friend! How could he do this without us?"

Ron could feel the disgust and disappointment that wasn't completely his wash through him. "You love him don't you?" he asked in a hollow voice.

Color briefly lit Hermione's cheeks before fading once more. "Of course I love him, Ron. I love you too. You are both my oldest and truest best friends. I could never consent to leaving either of you as long as I am alive."

Moments later, Harry walked in with a load of wood and the dreary silence that punctuated their lives so often since they had taken to the road took them all again.

Ron replayed the scene in his mind as he listened to the hushed whispers inside his head accenting all the moments when Hermione—his first love and first lover—relentlessly defended their best friend. Shouldn't her loyalty be to him, Ron? Why should Harry always have to win, even when it came to Hermione? Ron grabbed hold of the locket around his neck and gave it a slight squeeze. He could feel his hate for Harry growing and spilling onto the woman he thought he loved. Cogs turned in his head throwing conclusions into his mind, each worse than the previous one, until he landed at the simple truth.

They had to be together. Harry and Hermione, were together, behind his back. But for how long?

~*\/*~

Meanwhile...in the tent...

Harry waited patiently Hermione quickly enchanted an chair near the mouth of the tent to project the sounds of conversation and moves within the tent. It was a rather ingenious invention. The chair—when enchanted properly—would even project an image of the two having a quiet discussion at the dining table if someone were to look in from the mouth of the tent. When Hermione had first enchanted the chair to be a distraction, he had felt guilty lying to Ron. But that had all disappeared when she had pushed him into the corner of the tent just out of view of the door.

Just the thought was making him itch with anticipation as he watched her cross the room in toward him before tangling her hands into his too-long hair and crashing her lips to his. Inside of him his tension seemed to slowly uncoil like a cold snake on a warm rock. For a moment, the pain of his scar seemed to subside and all that he could think of was the sudden rush of happiness that flooded his soul. Desperately he tried to hold onto the moment before Hermione broke the kiss—as she always did.

Just as the thought entered his head, her lips were slipping away. "Harry—"

He quickly pressed his lips back to hers. "Shhh..."

"No...we...need...to..." she tried to say between kisses.

"Shhhh..."

"But..."

Claiming her mouth for a few seconds more, Harry kissed her roughly, running his hand up her side and over the curve of her hip, dipping it dangerously into the starvation-loosened band of her jeans. She moaned softly into his mouth causing his body to jerk forward of its own accord, pushing her into the post of one of the bunks. Her hips ground into his and Harry could almost feel the heat of the growing warmth between her legs against his growing erection before she pulled away from him, her eyes dark and dilated, fighting for composure as she tried to get her ragged breathing under control.

"We have to tell Ron," she said, crossing her arms in front of her as she tired to hide her visible excitement from him.

"We can't," Harry reminded, attempting to get close once more.

"We have to! He suspects! And unless we consummate this—" she gestured between the two of them, "—thing between us soon, he will be shown, not told!"

Harry rolled his eyes playfully. "That's what I'm trying to do!"

Over the past month, Harry and Hermione had realized a small problem. Though Hermione suspected this complication, she hadn't expected it to come on so quickly. They had been bound for less than a year! Most people didn't start having "The Urge" until they were at least in their fifth year of binding when—if they weren't already attempting to have children—the drive to create offspring became so intense it was almost impossible to control. As it was, they were barely able to wait long enough for Ron to be out of the tent before they were glued to one another. So far, a consummation had not taken place, but it was becoming harder to prevent by the day.

Sliding to the side, Hermione almost evaded capture, but was caught by seeker sharpened reflexes at the last minute. She sighed in relief at his touch and frustration at his persistence. "Harry, listen to me for a second!"

Harry nuzzled her neck schooling himself to try and ignore the ache building inside of him. "I'm listening."

"If we keep this up, we will drive him away."

Pushing his head into her shoulder, he groaned in a distinctly less sexy way than he had not fifteen minutes earlier. "If we _do _tell him, we will drive him away." Harry looked up at her seriously, all lust driven from him. "We can't risk it. We agreed the week before we left the Burrow. The damage would be irreparable."

"What and lying won't be?" Hermione pleaded, tears forming in her eyes.

Backing away, Harry sank to the floor of the tent floor. "Hermione, I am on this impossible mission, against all odds. Everyone that has been close to me with the exception of you two have been killed or maimed or somehow used by Voldemort against me. Now you want me to tell my best mate that I accidentally married the first girl he ever really loved right after he shagged her for the first time. Then she erased both our memories of the event. Oh, and by the way, ever since I forgave her for getting us into this soul bind, I have been snogging her every chance I get because I can't help but think of shagging her every second of the day." He ran his hands through his hair and rested his forehead on his knees.

"Harry," Hermione whispered leaning her head against her shoulder. "I just think—"

"Listen, I know Ron. He won't take it well. So let's just drop it."

Standing moodily, Harry piled on an extra layer of outerwear and walked through the tent flap to join Ron on watch duty. Being alone with Hermione was more than he could handle at the moment. Especially since he knew telling Ron would be a disaster. Even worse, he knew the longer he put it off, the worse it would be. It was like counting down to the death of a friendship.

And after all the death he had experienced in his short life, Harry was almost sure that this would be one he wouldn't survive.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Now off to the reviewy link with you! :-D Please?<strong>


	9. More Truth

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! I have good and bad news...**

**Te good news? My hubby sat down with me the other day and together we hammered out the whole arc of this story! YAY! I will now not be writing myself into a corner. (Thank you Dain for being the one to prod me into action! Your reviews rock!)**

**The bad news? I had three chapters writtne that I had do scrap so I am now back to where I started.**

**Thought I would post this though just to whet your appetite for things to come!**

**Thank you all again for your continued support through reviews, follows, and favorites! I appreciate each and every one of you that have done given me feedback and/or simply stuck with me through my long droughts. I am inspired by your tenacity!**

**Without further ado...**

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><p>Over a month stretched by as the frigidness of December melted into the bone chilling darkness of January. Ron stood outside of the tent, looking up at the barren hills that stretched out before them crisp with a layer of frozen rain. He hated the feel of winter. Everything seemed so damned dead. The trees were stripped of their leaves, the grass was brown, the skies were a perpetual gray and even when they weren't, the overly bright rays of light that did manage to peak through the oppressive clouds was just as depressingly cold as everything else.<p>

He twiddled his wand through his fingers sending a flourish of golden sparks to dance from its tip. At least the inner coldness of the locket leaking evil into his thoughts was waning. After a spectacular row that morning, Hermione had insisted they hang it on the post of one of the beds and take a break. Ron could have kissed her in relief alone—if only she hadn't sent he out to take the first day watch moments later while Harry helped her with some research.

These days it was always research and always without Ron. Frankly, he was becoming quite tired of it.

Despite the early hour, Ron felt a yawn building deep in his chest before escaping his mouth loudly. Tiredness was taking hold of him as the full weight of carrying the blasted locket began to sink in. He could feel his eyelids becoming heavy.

He needed to sleep.

Every night nightmares would shake him from his dreamworld, showing him visions of Hermione and Harry wrapped in a lover's embrace, smirking at him as they whispered to one another about what a fool he was. His heart would break into a thousand pieces as they laughed and laughed before turning to one another and locking their lips and arms together in vicious taunt. Every night he would wake, wondering if it was the bloody locket making him think such things, or if those small brushes of his best mates' hands were more than just innocent brother/sister moves. Every night he could never quite convince himself of their innocence as he lay awake. So by the time one of the others came to wake him for his turn at guard post, he had already spent hours awake staring at the white canvas of the tent.

Another yawn broke free from him, causing Ron to shudder and shiver with the force. Pulling back the flap of the tent he peered inside. Harry and Hermione were once again bent over Dumbledore's copy of _The Tales of Beadle the Bard._ It had to be the thousandth time they had poured over the book in the last month. When were they going to accept that Dumbledore was a bit of a lune and there was thothing more to glean from the kiddie book? Ron decided finally as pushed to his feet and stepped into the relative warmth of the tent.

The second he stepped through the door, however, he knew that something was horribly wrong.

The image of Harry and Hermione wavered as he tripped on a chair that had been moved in front of the door. "What the—" he started, staring dumbly at the projection, his eyes widening as he moved the chair next to him causing figures at the table to tilt in mid air. Confused he looked back at the chair with apprehension. Why would they need to charm the chair to make it look like they were studying? Were they taking extra turns sleeping? Because if they thought they could just leave him on guard duty while they—

A soft moan caused all thoughts and actions of his exhaustion hampered brain to cease instantly. Ron felt himself break out into a cold sweat, his heart beating erratically in his chest.

He had heard that moan before, but never in the glaring light of the day.

Slowly, Ron's eyes drifted to the far side of the tent where the where the boy's bunks were pushed against the heavy canvas wall. The picture could have been ripped straight from his nightmares. Hermione was pushed up against one of the sturdy posts of the bunks her fingers twisted in Harry's dark locks as he lead a trail of kisses down pale neck. Her mouth was slightly open and her soft brown eyes were closed, oblivious to the intrusion of her former lover. Harry's head was moving steadily south as his hands groped hurriedly with the buttons of Hermione's shirt, causing her to shudder the closer he moved to the valley between her breasts.

Ron watched in shock, the sound of his blood pounding in his ears as his heart desperately tried to force his brain into action distracting him. Heat rose in his face as he stared as his best mate began to expose a part of Hermione that—just moments ago—Ron was sure that only he himself had seen. None too gently, Harry's hand slip into the cup of the soft white bra that Hermione was wearing.

Like rope being cut from around his raw rage, the limbo that had been keep Ron's feet planted snapped.

The chair that had been cleverly playing the study scene at the dining table exploded, showering the whole tent in bits of wood and fluff and fabric like deranged confetti for the show Ron had just witnessed.

Hermione's eyes snapped open in fear as a screech escaped her already parted lips. Harry turned, his wand drawn and his body tensed to spring at the threat. Shaking, Ron raised his wand and strode forward, ignoring the angry tears he had just noticed streak down his cheeks as his wand pressed to Harry's heart.

"Ron!" Harry yelped, dropping his wand immediately, the color draining from his face. "I can explain!" A small ring began to burn through the front of Harry's disheveled Weasley jumper as his best mate's anger flared.

Ron's eyes widened and he press forward, his hand shaking with effort not to curse his best mate into a thousand pieces. "Explain what!" he said through gritted teeth. "What you just tripped on the rug and you hand fell into her shirt? Your lips just _happened_ to land on her neck!"

"Ron!" Hermione was tugging at his arm but Ron couldn't even bring himself to look at her. "Let us explain!"

"Mate, it was just a—"

"A what?" Ron's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "An accident?" A lamp in the corner of the room exploded joining the bits and pieces of the chair all around them.

"Ron, please! Just let me explain!" Hermione sobbed, still trying to force his wand arm down as the hole in Harry's jumper began to grow and smoke.

Still not looking at her, Ron said in the same tone, "Actually, I think I've got a pretty good idea," he lowered his wand and stepped backward. "You have been shagging him all along. Thought it was good fun to string me along." With a rough shove, he shook Hermione from his arm and spared her a brief glance before his eyes came back to Harry. "And you, mate!" His voice came out choked and stricken. "You knew how I felt about her! How could you?"

Harry looked back at him, aghast at the quiet rage he was witnessing. Yelling he had expected, throwing punches and curses he could handle; but the broken betrayed look of hate floating in Ron's eyes was something else altogether. He felt like the most vile thing alive—worse than a thousand Voldemorts. He took a step forward raising his hands in defeat.

The redhead immediately recoiled ten paces, raising his wand once more. "DON'T!" he yelled finally, his face more red than ever. Hermione raised her arms as if to embrace him.

Ron and his wand and eyes fell to her once more with a look of pure hatred. "DON'T TOUCH ME YOU FILTHY WHORE!"

Harry let his hands drop like lead weights to his sides his anger rising as the hurt slashed at his bond mate and she stumbled back as if she had been physically hit. "DON'T TALK TO HER LIKE THAT!" he bellowed at Ron, raising his own wand once more.

Training his wand back on Harry, Ron shoot a jinx at his mate's chest that Harry deflected with ease. His face turning more and more red, Ron bounded forward, slashing his wand back and forth through the air shooting curse after curse at his best mate as a bellow of rage and hurt burst from his lips. Finally gathering her wits about her, Hermione shouted "PROTEGO!" as she jumped directly into Ron's path.

Ron jumped back in surprise as a stinging jinx he had just shot flew back at him pushing him a few steps before his shoulder began to swell. His eyes opened wide in shock as he stood gasping for breath. His stance became rigid and sense of betrayal more absolute. Disarming someone, stopping someone from hurting another was one thing, but to chose to reflect a curse back in favor of Harry was more than Ron could handle. Hermione's hands shot to her face horror.

She hadn't thought twice about protecting her bond mate over Ron.

Squaring his shoulders, Ron slowly backed toward the mouth of the tent his eyes narrowed in anguish.

"Ron, please—" she pleaded once more.

But before she could even finish her sentence or raise her wand to stop him, he turned pushing through the low entrance of what had been their home for months. A faint pop sounded his departure, leaving a deafening silence in his wake.

It was over.

Harry felt his heart freeze in his chest as Hermione's legs gave way beneath her.

As if someone had put a thickening spell on the very air, Harry felt he had to push his way forward through the suffocating silence around him. Hermione was sobbing uncontrollably on the floor and he knew that she was punishing herself again. His instincts told him that he should be holding her and comforting her as she rocked in obvious hurt, but he couldn't make himself stop or even look at her.

Harry had just lost his oldest and dearest friend.

She had been the root of Harry's betrayal of Ron.

Never had he wanted to comfort anyone less.

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><p><strong>Please pardon any errors!<strong>

** Reviews feed the flame of inspiration, so don't forget to review! :-D**


	10. Sweet Dreams

**A/N: I am trying to get these things up more quickly than before, but life seems to keep getting in the way, dang it! Fortunately, I have three ahead written, so I will be posting more regularly in the next few weeks. **

**Though this is still a marriage bond fic, I really want to try and capture how things would have worked in this A/U as far as the story of the book, so a lot of the fluffy stuff will have a dark undercurrent to it for a while here and somethings are gonna take a darker turn. I am really excited about this and I hope you guys will all stick with me through it! **

**That being said, this one is a shorty, but it will tie into what is gonna be happening through the next three chapters or so. I promise the next few will be longer and yes, you can expect to see some H/HR action at some point in the near future which I will warn you of in advance.**

**Once again, Thank you all again for your continued support through reviews, follows, and favorites! I appreciate each and every one of you that have done given me feedback and/or simply stuck with me through my long droughts. I am inspired by your tenacity!**

**Without further ado...**

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><p>Hermione stood at the mouth of the tent, pulling her heavy winter cloak tightly around her shoulders, thanking Merlin that she had thought to bring her heavy muggle coat with her. Even with the added warmth, all she could feel was cold lately. Not just the physical type, but rather the biting gnawing cold that settles into ones soul when all hope seems lost. Whispering a soft <em>lumos<em>, she stepped onto the crusted snow and toward the tree where the bundled mass of her companion was huddled, one of the books on Horcruxes cradled in his lap as his head rested against the tree.

Since Ron had left, the two had exchanged terse words in passing. They had given up on watch after a weeks worth of inactivity forcing them both into the tent to endure long drawn-out bouts of silence punctuated by the turning of pages. She wasn't even sure why they had gone on with watch for that long anyway—perhaps out of hope that Ron would come back and they would find themselves back to the way things were before the hunt, before the fight, before the bond. Yet it was useless. Ron was never going to come back. He about all other people she had ever known did not take betrayal of trust well. They would be lucky if he ever even stayed in the same room with them again once this was over, let alone spoke to them again.

Everything about the situation had become awkward—an awkwardness accentuated by the bond they shared. Though the bond was much more fragmented due to their distance, it was also more painful, like sand in an open wound. They could feel the sad coldness that distance put on them settling on them forcing their contact subconsciously. Often the two would find themselves drawing closer to one another, their arms brushing and their legs touching. Neither would speak during such occasions.

It was nothing more than a physical need to complete the bond—a subject both were avoiding like the plague.

Hermione, reaching Harry's side, carefully picked up the book from his lap and gently levitated his sleeping form back into the warmth of the tent. Laying the book down carefully, she strode over to him and carefully removed his outerwear before laying him neatly on the bottom bunk muttering a warming charm over his body to ease the racking shivers. However, the charm didn't stop the goosebumps from raising on his arms.

Training her eyes on his face, Hermione's jaw dropped in shock as she realized his peaceful sleep had turned into something much worse.

"No..." Harry moaned, thrashing against the blankets.

"Harry?"

"...wand..."

She shook his shoulder violently. "Harry! Wake up!"

Instantly, his eyes snapped open and for just a second, Hermione swore she saw a flash of red just before the normal vibrant green took its place. She moved back involuntarily letting her hands drop to her sides. It was only a moment but something about chilled her to the bone.

Immediately, Harry sat up, grabbing hold of her and burying his face in her neck. Hermione froze, her shock still apparent as her arms slowly wound their way around his back. The move felt so innocent, like before the bond when they would hug one another in greeting or parting. His frame was racked tremors as she simply held him quietly rocking him. It had been so long since they had touched in such a way she was reluctant to move from the warmth she felt building in her heart.

"Harry?" she whispered. "What was it?"

His grip on her tightened. "I was in his head—"

He eyes widened in fright and she pulled away quickly holding his shoulders at arms length. "You know you're not supposed to—"

"I know!" He said running his hands through his sweat dampened hair. "But I can't always help it, Hermione! I was asleep for Merlin's sake!"

She was quiet for a moment, already missing the warmth of his arms, yet craving the sound of his voice almost as much. "I know, it's just..." she sighed. "What did you see?"

"He has people. Not just Olivander like before, but others. I saw him watching a couple of Deatheaters drag in a hostage, but he wasn't interested in her."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Who did he have?"

His eyes filled with tears. "I think it was Luna..."

"What! Are you sure?"

He shook his head. "I couldn't be sure. He wasn't focused on her. He was after something else, a wand I think. He is still going on about this wand. He is mad that Olivander doesn't know enough about a wand, called it the Elder Wand..."

"Elder wand?" Hermione's brows drew together. Something about the name struck her as familiar but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Yeah, he can't find it and he wants it."

They lapsed into a thoughtful silence—Hermione trying to remember where she had heard of the wand before and Harry trying to wrap his head around his most recent foray into Voldemort's mind. Sleep forgotten, Harry got up from the bed and paced back and forth across the tent. Standing, Hermione reached the table and began to sort through her many books.

Something seemed to shift as the two went to work setting about their tasks with more fervor. Both seemed to put the strained nature of their relationship to the side for a moment to focus on the information at hand. It was almost like before as they began to have actual conversations. For the first time, Hermione could feel the cloud of pressure begin to lift just a little. Things were still tense, but it was definitely lessening as they started to feel out the new territory that was their lives without the third member of their beloved trio.

Suddenly it felt like the two of them might be able to pull it off without his help—a sad, yet comforting thought indeed.

Finding nothing in the first book she skimmed, Hermione picked up another from the pile, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she immersed herself in the comfortable monotony of research. Things would eventually be alright, she knew as her eyes slid over the page.

Elder Wand, Elder Wand, where had she heard that before...

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><p><strong>Please pardon any errors!<strong>

**Review to make me smile and/or update faster! :-D**


	11. Taboo

**A/N: Yay! A more timely update! This one is where we see a major break from cannon in the story. Please stick with me! I promise we are going somewhere with all this craziness. Bonus? It is a bit longer than the last update!**

**Thank you all again for your continued support through reviews, follows, and favorites! I appreciate each and every one of you that have given me feedback and/or simply stuck with me through my long droughts. I am inspired by your tenacity!**

**Without further ado...**

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><p>Stepping under the hot tap, Harry let the water run over his face, breathing in the steam building up around him. After just over half a year in a tent—even one with small loo and shower—there was nothing like having a regular bathroom with a hot—not lukewarm, hot—shower. Perhaps there was a little streak of muggle that the Dursleys had managed to ingrain in him after all.<p>

They had taken a great risk getting a hold of some muggle money and renting a small hotel room for the night in London. Weeks of isolation from the wizard and muggle worlds had brought any progress to a stand still. They had no leads. They couldn't agree on where to go next. Hermione wanted to go to the Order for help, but Harry insisted that the mission was theirs and theirs alone. Harry wanted to go to Godric's Hallow because he was certain that either the sword or the mysterious wand Voldemort was after _had_ to be there, but Hermione insisted that would be the first place Voldemort would look for them.

After a days of brooding and arguing, they had simply decided to take a break, get some real food in their stomachs and do some sleuthing about Diagon Alley for news.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted from the main room.

Cursing, Harry shut off the water and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist, not bothering to get dressed. The cold air hit his skin. Still dripping, he opened the bath door and stepped out through the swirling steam into the shabby muggle room. With her back still to the door, the dark auburn color of Hermione's disguise glinted int the light throwing him off for a second. She looked different with her hair smooth and sleek, but everything about her screamed Hermione as she moved frantically about, shifting books and maps they had been working on throughout the week and tossing her muggle jacket onto the chair. For a moment, Harry loved that he could tell it was her despite the disguise. Even without the bond, he could tell and something about the purity of just knowing made something in him spark beyond the anger. He couldn't help but watch her move as she talked about...wait, what was she talking about?

As if the volume were slowly raising, Harry's hearing tuned back into the moment and listened.

"...they are everywhere! I just can't believe that we have managed to miss them so far," she said, her voice excited.

"Wait, who's everywhere? What are you talking about?"

Hermione, still not looking up let out an annoyed huff. "The Snatchers, Harry! Weren't you listening?"

Grunting in reply, Harry tied the towel around his waist a little tighter and grabbed another from the rack and began running it over his dripping hair.

"What I was saying is that the Snatchers are all over Diagon Alley. They are moving in packs, harassing people wandering about and asking for random wand checks. I narrowly avoided them today by pulling out the Cloak! But as soon as hid, they stopped a few paces away and looked at one of your posters. They started talking about how nabbing you would mean a permanent flow of galleons to their vault."

Finally, she seemed to find what she was looking for at the very bottom of a pile of books. With frantic movements, she turned the pages violently cringing as she ripped one. Reigning in her excitement, she slowed down, but didn't continue.

"Hermione?" Harry prompted "Mind filling in the blanks?"

"What?" she said distractedly. "Oh, er, yes. Well, one of the Snatchers was going on about finding you and turning you over to the Ministry for the galleons. One of the others, though said that one was an idiot and that if he found you he would deliver you straight to You-Know-Who, said something about having power and fortune as well as carrying favor with the Dark Lord."

Harry sat heavily on the bed. "Yes, well, that's nothing new now is it? I may be 'Undesirable Number 1' to the Ministry, but to Volde—"

"Yes, but there's more! They said that they would take you to Malfoy Manor to You-Know-Who!"

Harry sat up a little straighter. "What?"

"Well, apparently, that is where he has set up shop. He is staying with the Malfoys!"

The cogs in Harry's brain began whirring into life as he thought of the possibilities before snagging on a major hook up. "Brilliant, we know where he is. Too bad I haven't destroyed the other Horcruxes yet." Rolling his eyes, he let himself slump again. "Fat lot of good that is going to do us..."

Hermione's hair was slowly fading as the polyjuice potion began to wear off leaving her in her almost gaunt previous condition she had been in for the past few months. However, her eyes—usually dull and filled with unspoken sorrow—were alive with the excitement of the new lead that she couldn't quite articulate as she flipped through more pages. "You misunderstand. I don't mean we storm the castle and confront the full powered version, but maybe we could infiltrate the Manor and do some spying. If You-Know-Who is as sloppy and arrogant a bastard as he has proven himself in the past, he is bound to have given someone something in the past to protect having never told that person what it was."

Harry's eyes widened and he stood grabbing the sopping towel as it almost slid from his waist. "You think someone is going to let loose the location of a Horcrux?"

"Maybe. Even if they don't say it outright, they are sure to let _something _slip. Look at what Lucius did our second year—and the people You-Know-Who has in his inner circle are more mental than Malfoy's dad ever was!"

"Yes, but that is a big leap." As the words left his mouth, Harry almost laughed at how much _he _sounded like Hermione trying to talk him out of idea. She was definitely rubbing off on him after all these years.

Harry felt himself draw a step closer to her, his body taking the lead almost on its own.

Looking up for the first time, Hermione's eyes fell of Harry and her breath came in sharply. His eyes traced the planes of her face greedily, mirroring her blush as the state of his undress suddenly came to the forefront of the moment. It had been a long time since their encounter that led to Ron's absence and nothing had happened since. The tension was nearly unbearable and just standing this close, Harry could feel himself being drawn in to her.

He cleared his throat and put more space between them as he dug through a pile of semi-clean clothes.

"Anyway," Hermione continued, her voice a little huskier that it had been moments before. "They also talked about how a Deatheater had been in the Leaky a few weeks ago, bragging about how they had brought in a strange blond girl to the Manor a few weeks ago."

"Luna...So I guess she was the girl I saw."

"Exactly. They were going on about how she was nabbed right of the Hogwarts Express because the Quibler was supporting you."

Harry's stomach felt like lead as he pulled on a worn green Weasley sweat from a few Christmases ago and a pair of boxers followed by some worn jeans.

"So I was thinking that we could scope out the place, wait for one of them to brag to one of the others about how trusted they are, we could have a lead on a Horcrux and save Luna all in one whack!"

Finally fully dressed and slightly calmed down, Harry pulled up a chair next to his bond-mate. "Alright, say we manage to get in without getting caught and manage to somehow overhear something that is of use. Strike that, we won't get past even getting in so what is the point?" He shook his head in frustration. "Not to mention the fact that we are ignoring what the main part of the dream. Shouldn't we be looking for the elder wand?"

Hermione's cheeks were still a bit pink when his hand brushed hers as he reached for a book on concealment charms. "Nonsense! We can get in and out without a problem. All we have to worry about is staying hidden while we are in there especially if You-Know-Who is around, and that means some heavy scouting missions before we even attempt to spy. And as for the wand, I really think we need to stick to the mission Dumbledore gave you! Searching for powerful wands is not going to bring You-Know-Who down."

Harry froze, not hearing the final half of her rant. "What do you mean we can get in and out easily?"

"Harry, honestly!" She said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "What magical creature do we know that can apparate and disapperate anywhere and through any wards without witches or wizards ever being the wiser?"

He thought for a moment before his face lit up and a smile crossed his lips for the first time in weeks. "House elves."

"Exactly. They are brilliant at not being noticed and can help us get in and out quickly. You see, most old wizarding families don't think that house elves are any smarter than the family dog, so they don't guard against them at all!"

"If that is the case, then why don't we just send in Kreacher or Dobby to do the reconnaissance?"

Hermione looked up from the book she had once more begun studying and gazed at him with a look of utter horror. "We couldn't ask them to do that! Getting us in and out is risky enough! Dobby would be fighting being noticed by the other elves—not to mention the Malfoys themselves—the whole time. Kreacher, despite his new found loyalty, would be mumbling under his breath about pureblood supremacy the whole time. Someone would surely notice a senile old elf as out of place."

Harry nodded. "He can sense people, though, you know? I bet He would be able to detect any sort of concealment."

"Who? The Malfoy's or You-Know-Who?"

"Voldemort, and why do you keep saying You-Know-Who all of a sudden?"

"Harry, no!" Hermione shrieked, reaching for her wand, knocking off the small table and to the floor in her haste. Cursing, she dove for the small piece of wood.

"What!"

"The name's been tabooed! The Snatchers—"

The sudden pops of apparition and the shouts of _Incarcerous_ broke through the quiet room as the very three Snatchers Hermione had seen earlier that morning sprang into existence. She let out a muffled cry as the ropes wound tightly around her and a pair of hands dragged her roughly away. Another pair of firm hands grabbed Harry's arm roughly keeping him from toppling forward as the bindings locked his legs together painfully.

"Well, well, well!" The man with yellow teeth and the remnants of a beard hissed twirling Harry's wand in his fingers. He slowly circled Hermione first. "Look what we found!"

The other two snickered stupidly. "Thought it would be fun to use the Dark Lord's name did you?" The one holding Harry rasped digging his wand painfully into his captive's neck. His breath stank of stale tobacco and fish.

Yellow teeth let his eyes rove about the room with an air of disgust. "Well, you see—" His speech cut off immediately as his eyes fell upon Harry. "I'll be damned!" he coughed out.

The other two followed his gaze and mimicked his reaction.

"Looks like sometimes wishes do come true lads! We just caught Harry Freakin' Potter!"

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><p><strong>As always please pardon any errors!<strong>

**Review to see a resolution to this evil cliff hanger! :-D**

**Oh, and ten points to Gryffindor for the reviewer who can tell me what I borrowed "Harry Freakin' Potter" from!**


	12. The Dark Side of Love

**A/N: Okay, so this one is the resolution to the cliffy! Yay! But before you read on, please pause!**

**IMPORTANT NOTICE AHEAD!**

**Okay, enough with the dramatics. **

**In order to keep this story at a teen rating, I am going to be posting this chapter in two places. The PG13 version (in other words the one without the tiny bit of smut) will be posted here in the main story line. The R version will be posted as a one shot. Now the stuff isn't explicit, but I am reluctant to change the story rating because the teen area gets a bit more foot traffic and I fear that even a little something-something would get me reported. Now the sex part is skippable, so if you are under 18 or otherwise unwilling, read this version and be merry! However if you would like to read it in the full version (which I believe is much better and emotional) and meet the age requirements, skip this chapter and read that one instead.**

**Okay, end of notice!**

**Also! Ten points to Gryffindor, for Daisy Seary for correctly guessing that the line in the last chapter came from A Very Potter Sequel on youtube. If you haven't seen it or A Very Potter Musical, skip on over and check it out it's hilarious! **

**Thank you also to anyone else who guessed, you are all equally supermegaawesomefoxyhot as well, and to all those who stick with me and review/rate/follow! You are all an inspiration!**

**Without further ado...**

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><p>Harry's blood ran cold as he felt his wand slip from his hand and fly into the waiting hand of a tall snatcher with stubble and horrible yellow teeth and eyes. He struggled against the binds as he watched another snatcher pull back hard on Hermione's hair and push his wand into her neck forcefully dragging her across the tiny space from him. A surge of anger flowed through him as the echoes of Hermione's fear rush to him through the bond; weaker than it should have been due to the lack of contact they had had over the past few months, but still undoubtedly there.<p>

The man's hands roamed inappropriately over Hermione's curves and his scraggly hair drifted onto her neck as he sniffed her revoltingly. "Look at this one Rick? Is this the mudblood that he is supposed to be on the run with? She is _fetching _for such a dirty whore."

"You take your hands off her," Harry growled straining hard enough that a young snatcher holding him redoubled his efforts and gave him an extra jab in the throat for good measure.

"Oh ho! You think you are in any position to make demands?" The leader, presumably Rick, said pointing both Harry's and his own wand at the-Boy-Who-Lived's chest.

Harry glared, trying to fathom the power that was pounding through the now open bond with Hermione. She looked across at him with wide eyes, begging him to stand down with her eyes.

"Potter, Potter, Potter. Didn't your filthy mother teach you not to try your superiors, oh wait...she got what she deserved didn't she!"

"I saw that filthy whore once!" the one holding Hermione said. "If I were the Dark Lord, I would've done more than killed her."

"Shut up!"

The three snatchers laughed at Harry's continued struggles causing him to nearly take the final step over the edge of absolute rage. With the flick of his wrist, Rick turned on Hermione snarling as the word _Crucio_ left his lips.

Suddenly the power that had been gurgling deep inside of Harry came coursing into his system riding the waves of Hermione's screams. Everything around him seemed to disappear like a cloud of smoke and all he could feel was his soul beating in tandem with his soul-bound friend and wife as her heart fought erratically to keep pumping the vicious cycle of pain through her body. He could feel their collective power pooling in him and as if someone had flicked a switch, the advantage switched hands. The same giddy feeling of invincibility that had filled him when he had swallowed _Felix __Felicis _a year prior filled him once more and he knew just what to do

Instantly the ropes tying them disintegrated into sand and Harry could feel all of the hair on his body rise as the raw wild power took hold of him.

The snatchers all stopped and looked around at him in panic. Rick threw down Harry's wand and tried to diapperate to get away, only to be met by a slow laugh as they were easily blocked and thrown to the ground. The other two began firing hexes at him while trying to scramble toward the door, too afraid to shoot anything unforgivable in his direction for fear of having it rebound and kill them instead. They weren't looking to capture any longer, but rather to flee. But Harry had no intention of letting them go. Their feeble attempts fizzled out before they could even reach him like one firing a cap gun at an elephant.

It was no use.

They were his.

A small smirk spread across Harry's lips as he felt the power of his love for Hermione in a true and tangible sense. The warmth of it was boiling in him fueled by a righteous rage that chipped away at his normally rock solid control almost like it used to when he was young and untrained, yet more enormous than anything he had ever felt before. Part of him knew that he should be afraid, but all he felt was a calm sense of determination to end a threat to the life of the one he loved, to save his other half.

To save Hermione.

Sensing the uselessness of their magical attempts, Rick grabbed the other two by the collars and yanked them towards the door. He pulled futilely on the handle tapping his wand against the cheep metal. Behind him, the other simply moved slowly back, their faces wide with terror. Rick turned as the other two bumped into him and opened his mouth to beg.

Not a word left the man's lips.

With the snap of his fingers, the necks of all of the snatchers snapped simultaneously, a look of utter terror on their faces as they fell heavily to the worn carpet. A second snap banished the bodies somewhere that was away, but he couldn't be bothered to care where they went. Hermione was safe and the threat was nullified. A soft cloud of dust lingered in their absence slowly drifting to the floor below leaving nothing but their wands and a deadly stillness behind.

Harry slumped to the floor, his breath coming in hard and ragged. The power left as quickly as it had come snapping back into Hermione like a rubber band.

Suddenly, the jaggedness of the unfulfilled bond spread through him cutting through him unevenly like a dull serrated knife. The rawness was worse than it had ever been and he knew there was only one way to soothe the ache. They should move on and set up camp somewhere else lest someone else come to try and snatch them up. He knew that Hermione was probably terrified that he had just wandlessly taken the lives—_lives—_of three people and vanished them with less than a thought. He knew.

But those things didn't seem to matter anymore.

With shaking hands, he picked up his wand and set the protection spells once more before tossing it aside and crossing the room to his bond-mate. Her brown eyes were wide with shock at the blazing fire behind his green eyes, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to care. She could be scared later. They could talk about it later, right now all that mattered was the overwhelming need he had to be close to her—touch her and complete the bond.

Roughly he pulled her into a deep kiss, their tongues dancing together as their pulses spiked. The stubble of Harry's days growth of beard scratched across Hermione's face, probably rubbing her raw in the process, but she didn't seem to mind as her lips tore at his with the same desperation. He could sense her fear in every touch, of his tongue. He could almost hear her thinking the timing was off, that she wanted it to be special and not like this. Harry could feel it, but he didn't pay any of it heed. This would be his decision. This would be his move, the final step _he_ was choosing to make.

The only one that she had left him when she accidentally took the power of choice with the soul bond.

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><p><strong>Not to rag on and on but the other version definitely has more depth so please if you can read that version.<strong>

**Otherwise, please jot me a review and let me know what you think! Your reviews fuel the machine so don't let me run out of petrol!**


	13. Death of a Sidekick, Birth of a Hero

**A/N: Okay, so some mixed reviews on the last chapter. Just need to clear things up a smidge for anyone who is confused. Harry did not rape Hermione. I swear. I will explain the circumstances in the next chapter. I know there is a lot of angst right now, but trust me! This story will have a happy ending! I want there to be happiness.**

**Now, this chapter is a bit different. I actually am dedicating it to a reader named Grown Up Ron. Our dialogue inspired this! **

**Even though this ship tends to hate on Ron as a character, I like him and the Weasleys (I am a member of The Twin Exchange, after all). This chapter is meant to break up the tension and give a little foreshadow into what is going on outside the drama that is Harry and Hermione's lives right now. Even if you hate Ron read on. This will be important later.**

**As always thank you all for your continued support during my long absences! Love you all!**

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><p><strong>Previously on APtFtC...<strong>

**Harry and Hermione are still on the run sans Ron who left when he caught them snogging in the tent. Hermione and Harry came up with a plan to spy on Malfoy Manor but managed to call snatchers into their hideout accidentally. Harry saved the day, but the snatchers died. After, they "completed the bond" and we caught our first glimpse at a darker Harry. **

**And without further ado... **

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><p>Fred leaned over a steaming cauldron, smiling when the fumes alone caused him to sprout a rainbow colored beard that disappeared when he leaned away. With careful movements, he lifted a gently bubbling pot of chocolate off a separate flame and flicked his wand at it so it filled a large table load of 'W' molds before adding a few drops of the rainbow concoction to each chocolate. Behind him, George's quill scratched over parchment as he balanced the books for the mail order portion of their business that had become less of a portion and more of a whole in the past year. The quiet was almost overwhelming after two years of running the shop. They had gorwn accustomed to the noise of the shop and Diagon Alley beyond. Life in the country was positively dull, even if business was still steady enough.<p>

Leaning back, Fred stretched his aching back and turned his face toward the open window. Early morning sun was fighting its way through the heavy curtains of their assigned guest room in Aunt Muriels none-too-modest mansion. The soft smell of country heather drifted into the window taking the stale smell of animal mixed with dust and chocolate back out with the breeze. Some might have found it relaxing, but the twins had always been ambitious workers when it came to the shop and their products so the atmosphere seemed more suffocating than anything. To combat the effects they threw themselves into the work during their long stretches of downtime between small Order Missions and Potterwatch airings. The adaptation was difficult, but unavoidable.

"How's it coming over there?" George asked, putting down his quill and rubbing a hand over his eyes as he yawned quietly. He preferred not to do the work for the shop so early, but considering how most of their orders were time sensitive, there was little choice. It didn't stop him from envying his youngest brother who was currently spread out on top of the covers of the giant bed in the corner of the room sleeping soundly.

"Fantastic! They just need to cool, then we can test them."

George grinned. "Yes, but on whom should we test them brother of mine?"

Fred's gaze flickered momentarily to Ron's sleeping form before darting back to his twin. Both grinned, then simultaneously said, "Brilliant."

Standing George walked over to the bank of cages holding no fewer than thirty owls all of which had just returned from their nightly hunt and looked annoyed at being awoken once more. With practiced hands, he tied the packages to the owl's feet one by one and set them with a new time lapse disillusionment charm he and Fred had created to quell their great aunt's fears of discovery. It was quite ingenious, in fact, and promised to rake in the galleons when they reopened the shop's permanent residence.

A long sigh escaped George's mouth as he settled onto a stool near his twin. He wanted to say how he missed the shop and their store room and their flat. He wanted to tell Fred about his worries over their little brother's sudden appearance months ago and frequent disappearances. He wanted to talk about how hopeless the war made him feel...but he couldn't make the words form. Catching Fred's eye as he cleaned up the cauldrons of chocolate and potions, he knew he didn't have to say any of it. He just knew.

The quietness of the room punctuated by the harsh sounds of Ron's snores was broken when a knock at the door brought them out of their revere.

Fred looked curiously at his twin. "Are you expecting anyone?" they said in unison before shaking their heads and rising to answer their early morning caller.

"I am," came the sleepy voice of their little brother from the bed. Being on the run for months had bade the young man a bit of a light sleeper when it came to knocks and bumps in the night. The twins could send all the owls in the world out through their windows and not wake him. But one little knock? Ron straightened his rumpled hair tiredly and yawned. "Go ahead, Let him in."

The twins exchanged a look of incredulity before continuing their movement to the door.

Remus Lupin looked more tired and ragged than usual. On top of all the missions the Order was sending him on to gather support in the werewolf community, he was also suffering from the lack of sleep that accompanied every new parent. "Remus, old man!" Fred said clapping their old professor on the back with the mocking air their brother Percy used to greet important ministry people.

George followed his lead. "Simply splendid to see you!"

"What brings you to our hideout at this hour?"

Remus looked up at them, a shadow of a grin slipping over his serious features. "I was about to ask you the same thing. I got this post saying you guys had something urgent to discuss?"

Fred and George exchanged a look. "We didn't send you an owl."

Remus looked at them, tired and puzzled. "Boys, if this is a prank, I really don't have the time. Teddy is up all night and..."

"Let him in," Ron called from where he had perched himself by the open window.

Normally, the twins would have objected to being ordered around by their younger brother about who and who not was invited into their small space. He was, after all, their guest. However, they had the distinct impression they were about to learn something about the mysterious disappearances their brother had been making and their curiosity won in the end.

After hearing the voice from within the room, Remus froze with hard eyes looked between the two before he pushed into the room. Fred and George let their eyes travel over their new arrival's face, taking in the redness, bulging eyes, and throbbing temple and knew they had to act quickly. Fred took a brave step forward and put a hand on Remus's shoulder. "Now, now, Professor—"

"Let's just take a moment and count the pygmy puffs before you jump to conclusions..." George mimicked his twins movement and both attempted to steer Remus to one of the stools at the work bench. They could feel the tension in the older man's muscles, but it was already too late.

With a few quick strides he dodged the twins and was across the room spinning their younger brother to face him. Ron looked at him blankly as Remus's wand dug painfully into the side of Ron's neck while the other hand grasped the front of the red head's shirt in a tight wad. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't curse you into next week, you lying deserting traitor!"

The twin's younger brother seemed to have been prepared for the anger, but at being called a traitor, he lost any composure he may have previously stored up for the meeting. He may have acted mostly fine in front of his bother's, but they had come to know bringing up his leaving Harry and Hermione instantly sent the second youngest Weasley into the red.

In a move that could not have been more smooth if it had been practiced by the Royal Ballet Company, Fred disarmed their former professor and caught his wand just in time for Ron's fist to connect with Remus's jaw, sending his sprawling away and into George's waiting arms. Ron went to launch himself at the werewolf again only to be caught under the arms Fred, but that didn't stop him from hurling a verbal assault. "First off, you bastard, I were a traitor do you think I would be held up in a Order safe house?" he shouted, "Second, it's rich of you to call me a deserter, you bloody wanker! I seem to remember _you _being the one who showed up at Grimwauld Place chomping at the bit to join us not so long ago, you bloody coward!"

Remus struggled violently against the stocky body holding him captive. "I was going to help Harry! You were already with him!"

"You were trying to escape your bloody wife, you bastard!"

Remus face went purple. "You have no idea what—"

"And neither do you, Remus old chap," George cut in as he contended to hold onto the wriggling man, "so why don't we just sit down and discuss this calmly?"

All the wind seemed to leave the older man in a huff. His face became hard as looked over at he youngest male Weasley. George tentatively loosened his grip and the older man tugged free, straightening his shabby robes. "I don't have time for this. I have a wife and child," he huffed. "If you want to desert the most important mission of the war, then who am I to stop you."

Ron pulled harder, trying to escape Fred's grip. "I did not desert the mission, you bastard! I just left them the way they left me months ago!"

"He's telling the truth," Fred said, almost out of breath. "He won't tell us what he's working on, but Ronnie here has kept up with the His Royal Scarred One's mission."

George nodded when Remus looked to him. "Won't tell us what that mission is, mind you, but he has kept up with it!"

"That's why I called you here," Ron said through gritted teeth.

"Still," Remus began, the anger quickly rising in his voice once more, "Dumbledore always said loyalty to Harry—"

"FUCK POTTER!" Ron roared. Silence fell around the room. Fred let his little brother free and all of them stood there, stunned. "I know everything he knows! He may be the bloody Chosen One, but that doesn't mean I have to sit by his side in order to help the cause! What gives him the right to take everything and still whine about it? I am done playing the sidekick to his hero!" Tears threatened to spill down Ron's cheeks but he fought them off before continuing, "Now are you going to let me tell you three what the mission is? If not, then get the bloody hell out of here!"

Fred and George looked stunned. Ever since Ron had appeared at their Aunt's house months back, they had been trying to discover what exactly he was up to when he dissapeared for long stretchs of time. He had insisted over and over that he couldn't tell anyone about any of it. Dumbledore had set the mission to Harry and he and Hermione were only privy to the information to help. Every time the mission was mentioned he would get this look in his eye and shut down, not talking at all. Several times they were sure he just _couldn't_ tell them because Dumbledore had put some sort of charm on the information.

Apparently, they had been wrong.

Remus cleared his throat loudly, casting secrecy charms about the room and bolting the door before he turned back and spoke. "Are you sure this is wise? Before Dumbledore died he insisted—"

"I know what he insisted," Ron broke off, his voice more tired now than angry. "But seeing as there is is still no sign of the fucking Chosen One and You-Know-Who is still out there killing muggles and muggle-borns, Dumbledore's plan is clearly not working out the way he had planned. I mean the man was a bloody genius, but he had trust issues."

Fred snickered. "I would love to see you use that language in front of Mum some day."

"Yeah, well, there is a reason I didn't invite the whole Order." A small smile ghosted over Ron's lips and even Remus chuckled a bit.

"So, may I inquire as to why you are here and not with the other two?" Remus hedged, still bothered by twins seemingly easy acceptance of their brother's presence.

Ron's face darkened. "It's a long story—"

"Hermione dumped Ron—" George cut him off.

"— and she started waxing Harry's broom," Fred finished.

"It's not just that! They lied about it and the..." Ron started hotly, clenching his hands at his sides and looking away before continuing, "You know what? It doesn't matter. Do you want in on this or not?" He glared at each of them in turn.

Remus seemingly satisfied by the information he had gotten grabbed a seat at the workbench before nodding. The twins eagerly followed suit and looked at their younger brother expectantly.

For the first time since he had struck out on the mission of hunting Horcuxes alone, Ron felt the eager energy of starting an adventure. With his two brother's around to lighten the mood and one of smartest people he knew to help out with the puzzles, he could feel success in the air.

"First thing's first, I guess. Have any of you ever heard of a Horcrux?" From the lack of reaction, Ron knew they hadn't, so he set off explaining everything he could remember from the past year and beyond. It was only then he realized just how much there was still to do.

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><p><strong>I think I will leave everyone with a cookie today for being so patient with these updates and post two chapters in one day!<strong>

**If you loved it, hated it, want chips, review! They make me oh so happy!**


	14. Spies and Hostages

**A/N: A second chapter in one day! Hurrah! We are back with Harry and Hermione in this one. Hopefully this will clear up any lingering questions!**

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><p>The chill of the air could still be felt throughout the drafty Manor as Hermione sat stock still for the the eighth hour straight. She could feel the muscles in her legs cramping from her hiding spot under a long side table that supported a large vase full of blood red roses. She longed to straighten them out but fear that the Cloak might slip stayed her movement. Especially when Bellatrix cleared her throat in an obnoxious way and paced once more to the head of the table and missed Hermione's trainer by less than an centimeter.<p>

Hermione sucked in her breath, and squeezed her knees painfully tighter to her chest, wishing once more that she was back at the tent and away from the horrible Manor. Currently, the Malfoy's were sitting down to afternoon tea. Bellatrix was pacing the hall, shrieking at the top of her lungs about how the Dark Lord should let her out to search for Harry Potter. Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco—whom she gathered was home on Easter Holiday—were sipping lightly on their tea in varying shades of tense boredom. Meanwhile, screams could be heard coming from the basement echoing about them as the latest 'Mudblood' learned her lesson about taking magic from a witch.

So far, no one had mentioned anything that seemed remotely relevant to the Horcrux hunt and Hermione still had two more hours until the room was empty enough for Dobby to fetch her safely. She was beginning to doubt whether or not the mission was worth the risk. The screaming alone was something she was sure to have nightmares about for the rest of her life.

Just as the pitch of the pleas rose unbearably causing Bellatrix's voice to rise in competition, it cut off as if someone had simply pulled the plug. Hermione's eyes closed as a tear slid down her cheek.

"Draco!" Bellatrix's suddenly loud voice rang out. "I was listening to that you little ingrate!"

Hermione lifted her head to see Draco's hand still clutching his wand. His face looked blank but his eyes looked so haunted that she could barely see the insufferable prat who had once attended school with her. He was not longer the pompous boy with a snarky smirk. The planes of his cheeks were more gaunt and drawn as if he too had seen the dark underbelly of the world and come out worse off for the experience. More surprising still was that he didn't even look up from his plate to acknowledge his aunt had spoken, but rather began eating with the perfect table manners he with which he had been raised.

Bellatrix seemed to swell with indignation at his silence. "So, you think you can just do as you please, nephew?"

Lucius sent Draco a hard look causing the young facsimile of his father to gulp. His eyes traveled back to his plate and he shook his head.

"You know if you were my child I would never have raised you to be so soft and you can bet that when the time came for you to kill that Mudblood-loving disgrace to the name of all magic Dumbledore, you would have done so with a smile on your face and a song in your heart." She walked once more passed Hermione's hiding place causing the muggleborn to pull her legs tighter to her body and hold her breath. "You're too soft on him Lucius. How do you think that I have come to be at the right hand of the Dark Lord? Our mother was hard on us, Cissy! You must be the same with Draco."

"Bella, I will do with Draco—"

"Oh yes, as you please, but Cissy he is taking after his father! Both of you are nothing more than spineless weak ingrates that are not fit lick the dirt off the Dark Lord's shoes."

Immediately, Lucius was on his feet, a wand clutched in his hands. His face was flushed with rage. For a moment, Hermione was sure that He was going to strike out at his sister-in-law and wipe the fanatical grin off her face. Bellatrix looked back at him tauntingly, seeming to beg him to strike. Instead the elder Malfoy simply clenched his jaw and resumed his seat, cutting into his food more violently than before. With a wicked cackle, Bellatrix reversed the silencing charm dancing about to the anguished screams like a giddy teen would dance to a jaunty tune.

Suddenly the burning in Hermione's gut had nothing to do with her physical discomfort.

Narcissa took a massive gulp of wine looking between her two male companions before turning her icy gray gaze to her mad sister. As if she were doing nothing more outrageous than pouring a cup of tea, the woman painted on a forced smile in what appeared to be a well practiced way and said, "Bella, when can we expect to see the Master return?"

Hermione's ears perked at the question.

Slowing her spinning, she looked over at her sister. "One cannot hope to predict the movements of our Lord, Cissy! He comes and goes as is his right and you should be grateful that he deigns your family worthy to bestow hospitality to him."

"Yes, yes of course, Bella," the pale woman persisted, "I just feel that if I have a clearer picture of his movements, I can better prepare to please Him. After all, our family could use every chance to make reparations for the wrongs of the past." At that, Lucius shot her a scathing look, but she simply patted her husband's hand in an assuaging manner.

Bella looked at her suspiciously but nodded. "I should expect him here within the next few days. His trips to Transylvania rarely last past that."

The wheels in Hermione's head began to spin out of control as the implications of You-Know-Who's return hit her. It meant that she and Harry had less than three days to glean information and rescue the hostages and that was if they were lucky. She had a sinking feeling that, judging by their progress so far, luck was not on their side.

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"No!" Hermione shouted, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration as she paced the length of the tent they were once again loathed to call home.

Harry looked up from the sheet of parchment they had both been pouring over moments before and removed his glasses before kneading his eyes tiredly. "What do you mean no? It is our only option!"

"Our only option?" she shouted, her eyes wide. "No, Harry it isn't! There are a billion and one better options than what you are suggesting! It is utter _lunacy!_"

"We have no more time!" he shouted back.

"Says who? We could continue spying the same way we have been doing for the past week—"

"We've been over this! He would know we are there. He would know and we would be caught! I mean just yesterday I could swear when Snape was there he saw my elbow. It is becoming too risky to keep going into the Manor! We need to nab the hostages and—"

"And what? Just take Bellatrix-Psychotic-Lestrange with us? Drop her into my bag and keep her there for questioning and whatever else we need her for the way that Barty Crouch Junior did with Mad-eye? They are going to notice she is missing so any other attempts to use her for polyjuice would be idiotic to say the least!"

"Hermione she knows something! She knows where one of the Horcruxes is, I just know it!"

"Even if she does—"

"_If?_"

"She would never tell us!"

Harry rolled his eyes childishly. "We could brew some Veritaserum!"

"Even if we did have all the ingredients, which we don't by the way, that takes over a year to brew!"

"We'll steals some then!"

Hermione threw up her hands again. "We cannot risk not knowing where it is coming from!"

"We could—"

"HARRY!" she shouted violently, tears filling her eyes in anger. He looked up at her defiantly. "You are missing the point. Even if we manage to surprise her, get her out with the hostages _and_ we manage to get anything out of that insane mind of hers, what are we going to do with her once we are done? Turn her in, because I get the feeling that the Ministry would likely slap you in Azkaban."

The gleam in Harry's eyes grew cold and for a Hermione swore she saw a flash of red in them. "We do to her what she did to my godfather and countless muggles and muggleborns."

Silence rang in the tent as the implications of his words sunk in. She knew that Harry had changed the night of their run in with the snatchers. His reaction to the whole thing had frightened her beyond belief. It wasn't the sexual portion of the night—all of which had happened mostly on impulse do to the amount of magic he had pulled from her to defend them. What bothered her the most was the following morning when he hadn't flinched in starting to plan the infiltration of Malfoy Manor. He made no mention of the fact that he had taken three lives, he showed no remorse. When she had prodded him about it, he simply shrugged it off and said he did what he had to do to keep them safe so they could continue plotting.

Something had broken in him, a barrier of sorts. She now insisted that the Horcrux stay in the tent at all times neither wearing it for any length of time; for when Harry slipped it on, his entire demeanor changed. He became cold and calculating, volatile.

Now he wanted to take a hostage of his own, do Merlin-knows-what to her, and kill her? None of it fit with what she knew of Harry. Hermione wiped at the tear that escaped her and gritted her teeth trying desperately to swallow the lump in her throat. Sinking into the chair across from his, she grasped his hands and forced him to look at her. "You are better than this Harry. I know that you k-killed those men to protect us, but you can't do it again! It makes you just as bad as they are. We will find another solution, even if it means letting the war carry on a bit longer."

The hard glint began to shift out of his eyes and he seemed to be trying to grasp at something just out of his reach. He looked almost lost and disturbing as it was, Hermione was relieved to see even the sliver of emotion. "I hear what you're saying, 'Mione, but I can't just let people carry on suffering while I struggle with the morality of it all. I'm not just murdering people! It isn't murder. I am not a murderer. I am simply trying to protect people that love."

"Yes, but killing no matter the cause is still taking a life!"

Harry threw his hands in the air before bringing them back down through his messier-than-usual hair. "I need this to be over. I need to be in control of my life! I am tired of living with this prophecy over my head."

Tears blurred Hermione's vision as she heard the desperation in his voice. "I will not let you sacrifice everything you are because it is easier. Dumbledore didn't give you this mission because it was easy! He chose you because of your propensity for love and forgiveness and—"

"And because I am the so-called Chosen One."

She paused staring at him with a hard glint in her eyes as the fear of before morphed back into anger. "I won't let you do this. We have to get those people out of the Manor. They could hold the key to finding the Horcruxes. Kidnapping someone will only get us into more trouble than we can handle on our own." Her shoulders set she stood and leaned across the table looking him straight in the eye. "So if you are still set on capturing Bellatrix, you can stay behind."

"Hermione!"

"You are either with me or you are waiting. The choice is yours."

Gathering herself, she pulled back the flap of the tent and marched out into the cold night air praying that, for once, Harry would simply listen to her. A chill ran down her spine as she recalled the cold look in his eyes as he discussed killing another person for answers. Everything about the argument had been so skewed. Never in her life would she ever have imagined having to talk Harry out of killing to further their cause. It was unbelievable.

Tears rolled down her face as she stood in the wind willing herself not to sob. She had shed enough tears already. More wouldn't make things better. Her fears had driven her for too long and with the suspicion that Harry had somehow broken the wall that kept Voldemort out of his mind, she could no longer afford to be ruled by her fear. She had to be strong...for Harry.

Behind her, she heard the telltale sound of canvas moving and moments later she felt Harry's arms wrap around her waist. She wiped frantically at her face with her sleeves trying to rid herself of the tears as she fought not to lose herself in the warmth of his touch. Since the completion of the bond, she noticed how touching him made her feel warm inside and out. She noticed that they could draw on one another's magic. That was how she knew that something was wrong.

Even in their warmest embraces, she could feel the same coldness in him that she felt when she wore the Horcrux. It was greatly diminished by their bond, but the fact that she could even feel it was frightening.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione," Harry whispered, settling his head on her shoulder. His could hand pulled her hair to the side and kissed her neck tenderly.

Hermione closed her eyes, mentally trying to push her love into him through the bond. She felt him shiver behind her and tighten his hold on her waist. He felt it. A small sad smile spread across her face. She turned in his arms and pressed her lips to his, kissing him with all of her love, fear, and worry.

After a few moments, they pulled back breathless, staring into one another's eyes. "Harry?" Hermione whispered. He looked so young to her. His green eyes reflected the starlight and for the first time in a while she could almost forget all of the bad things that had happen as well as those yet to come to pass.

"Yes?"

She wanted to tell him how afraid she was for him and tell him how much she loved him, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead she pulled him in for another kiss and directed him backward into the tent letting her hands run over his body as she desperately fought to undress him. If she couldn't tell him, she would show him.

For now, that would have to be enough.

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><p><strong>There! A little fluff mixed with a little angst. See? They do love each other! It's just complicated...<strong>

**Reviews are love, so leave your love and I will post more soon!**


	15. The Animal I have Become

**A/N: So I fail and this update is a long time in coming, but in the meantime I would like to thank you all for your generous reviews and follows and faves. All of them mean the world to me! This story officially has more reviews than all my others combined and that is big news and amazing and I love each and every one of you. **

**That being said, this chapter is a little short, and there isn't a lot of action, but I really felt that you guys needed a little insight into how Harry's thoughts are breaking down. I am taking just a smidgen of creative licensing here when it comes to soul purity and arguing that even if Harry did kill to save Hermione, he still damaged his soul and therefore gave Voldy a foothold. If that is gonna bug you, then feel free to rant at me, but let me remind you that this story will have a happy ending but there has to be a touch of tragedy to get there. This is true even in cannon and sometimes J.K. can be even more mean than I am! **

**Did I mention there are cookies involved for those of you who stick with me on this?**

**Long Author's note over! Now on with this long overdue chapter!**

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><p>The night was heavy and silent. Cold had begun to permeate in through the thin canvas of the tent turning the air into a glass so brittle, Harry felt if he were to move the whole night would shatter around him bringing his world with it. Next to him, he could feel the heat of Hermione's body pressed against him, her naked skin warm and soft. He should have been warm with such a radiant heat source pressed so close to him, yet somehow the moment did not reach him. Part of his soul seemed to be eternally cold—so cold even Hermione's loving distraction could not beat away the numbness completely.<p>

Very carefully, he slid his arm from beneath his partner's head and eased off the magically expanded camp bunk. He could feel the familiar tumbling in his stomach as he pulled on his clothing and grasped his wand, only just making it to the small camp bathroom before he lost what little was in his stomach. Dry heaves racked his body long after leaving him shivering in the corner, the cold even more suffocating than before bringing painful clarity into his thoughts that seemed to flee with the light of every day.

Flashes of his fifth year at Hogwarts began to race through his mind. The anger, the mistrust, the angst, lingered in his memory. He hadn't known at the time he was being influenced by Voldemort in his dreams and it was soaking slowly into his day to day life. Each night that year had been a nightmare, another vision of guilt at losing Cedric that morphed into the obsessive thoughts of reaching to door in the long halls of the Department of Mysteries. He had both feared and anticipated every night, craving—as Voldemort had—what lay beyond the door. Afterward, he realized that he was being controlled and partially possessed by his mortal enemy.

But every time he awoke, he felt the throb of his scar, the clear distinction between himself and the darkness. Even if the effects lingered in his mood, Harry knew he was safe, loved. Despite any doubt, he knew what was right and what was wrong. He knew. And when Voldemort had tried to fully possess him just after Sirius fell through the Veil, the magic of love and goodness had protected him.

Now he had no such hopes.

Despite the bond with Hermione, despite his mother's dying protection, the barriers that existed then seemed to be vanishing. He could feel himself slipping in a way that was similar yet so different than what had happened that year. His dreams were the same foggy shared visions. They tried to drag him into obsession, looking for a wand, looking for the next lead, looking for the edge to win, to gain power, to gain glory, to master eternity. When he awoke the feelings didn't fade. Instead, his goals just switched.

Voldemort's goals weren't Harry's goals when he awoke, but the driving desires to get what he did want at any cost consumed him. He felt his temper spike and his nerves burn raw. He felt the same loss of control he had felt when he was being partially possessed when Hermione argued with him about taking hostages. Sometimes, when he was close enough to the locket for a long enough period of time, he blacked out completely and didn't return to control until much later on in the night.

Yet the shared dreams with Voldemort remained fuzzy and indistinct like the broken man was simply dreaming and not consciously manipulating Harry in the way he had before. It was as if another piece of Voldemort were trying to manipulate him beyond the physical form he had fought two years prior.

The thought alone was enough to send him into dry heaves once more.

Only one thing helped and utilizing the source of his comfort filled him with a guilt that he somehow relished in for its simple purity.

When he touched Hermione, when he made love to her, the power of the love he felt for her despite her ultimate betrayal, the intensity of her fiery passion and unshakable goodness overwhelmed him. Any darkness in him fled and hid in the deepest corners of his mind like a vampire fleeing the sun. Every time he found himself being overwhelmed or blacking out with rage, he would grab her and kiss her until their bodies melted and their souls caressed one another. At least when he was with her, even if it was he was angry with her, it was his anger, his passion, his love.

She grounded him and kept the nightmares at bay. She beat back the fog.

Hermione became his best coping mechanism and he couldn't help but hate himself for using her in such a foul way.

Icy tears began forging trails down his cheeks and dripping down his chin. For just a moment, he allowed himself the weakness. He allowed himself to breakdown alone and wallow in the train wreck that had become his life.

"Harry?" a whisper drifted in through the bathroom door.

Scrambling to his feet, Harry turned on the icy camp sink's tap and, ignoring his trembling hands, splashed the frigid liquid over his face erasing the tears. He looked into the tiny mirror and hoped the low light and excuse of tiredness would hide his bloodshot eyes. Grabbing a threadbare towel he dried his face and flushed the small toilet for emphasis before dimming the light of his wand and stepping through the door.

In the middle of the small room, Hermione stood wrapped in nothing but a blanket. Her wild hair stood out messily around her head in a ridiculous mass of knots and kinked curls. At that moment, with here big blurry brown eyes fixed dreamily on him, he didn't think he had ever seen her look more beautiful. Not for the first time, he wished he could have fallen in love with her without the bond.

"I didn't hear you get up," she said, her voice scratchy from sleep.

Harry stepped awkwardly forward, feeling more himself than he had in weeks. "I had to use the loo."

She looked up at him, squinting through the dark looking into his eyes and probing him tentatively through the bond. Her warm hand landed on his face and she leaned into his chest with a sigh. He welcomed the warmth of her touch that came from being apart even for a short time. "Have you thought about what I said?"

Harry's chest clenched. Despite his newly found clarity, a part of him knew that he had to question someone to get another lead on the next horcrux, and fast. Though he was now less blood thirsty, he was no less resolute. A small voice in the corner of his head urged him to tell her the truth, that he intended to take someone hostage and convince them to spill untold Death Eater and Voldemort related secrets. However, when he opened his mouth, he instead said, "I will help you get the hostages out."

"What about Bellatrix?" she asked searching his eyes skeptically.

"You were right. She would be useless to us under any circumstances. I promise to leave her alone."

"And the others?"

Harry didn't skip a beat. "What would I want with the others? They won't have anything of use."

Hermione continued to stare at his eyes as if searching for his deception. Harry fought to keep his breathing even and stare back at her, hiding his lie in a way he never knew he was capable of doing. After a moment more she seemed satisfied and nodded before turning and tugging him back to bed.

Not for the first time, he questioned the sorting hat's decision to put him in Gryffindor. At the moment, he felt very Slytherin indeed.

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><p><strong>Please leave a review and let me know you are still out there? I have a chapter written, just waiting to be posted! If I get ten reviews, I might just post it within the week...just saying...*winkwink*<strong>


	16. You're Putting Me Through Shell

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews, faves and follows. Though there wasn't a lot of feedback on the last chapter, there were a slue of new follows and faves so I feel good about posting another chapter! Thank you all again for your support!**

**We will be entering a little bit more storyline here and a little more fighting between our hero and heroine. Don't fret! It will all work out, I promise!**

**Without further ado...**

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><p>Hermione marched resolutely up a tall sandy dune, slipping slightly as she fought to keep a pace that properly conveyed her mood. At the moment, she couldn't care less if her two companions were lagging behind her, one floating drunkenly through the air completely unconscious and the other trying to direct him with little luck as he raced toward her. She had never been more horrendously utterly disgustingly enraged in he whole life. She knew that if she dug a little deeper, she would feel other things as well; hurt, maybe even betrayal. For the moment, however, all she could do was look ahead to the silhouette of a small cottage on the edge of the beach with warm glowing windows.<p>

When Hermione had first appeared on the edge of the secluded beach property, one hand clutching tightly to Luna Lovegood while the other grasped Dobby's thin fingers, she had felt something she hadn't felt in a long time: a sense of relief and accomplishment. Sure, they were still at square one as far as the Horcruxes were concerned, but at least they had actually saved some lives. Just the two of them, herself and Harry, had infiltrated a Death Eater's strong hold and managed to free both Luna and Ollivander. Her relief, however, had been short lived.

Moments after arriving, she quickly noticed the absence of one key figure.

Harry was not with them.

Immediately she had felt through the bond, but it was shrouded and cold, the way it was when there was great distance between the two of them. Wherever he was, he was no where near the beach.

With lightening speed, she turned to Dobby and knelt to his level, not caring that the sand was pushing painfully into a newly acquired gash on her leg. "Dobby, where is Harry? He was supposed to come back with us!"

Dobby looked at her with his giant round eyes, guilty tears swimming and ready to spill as he bit his lip. "Harry Potter asked Dobby to take you and his Loony back first and come back for him once you were safe."

"WHAT!?" she had shouted, nearly pulling the house elf's brightly colored jumper from his tiny chest. "You have to take me back to him! He could be in serious trouble! He could be dying! How could you just leave him in that place?

"Harry Potter told Dobby that you would say that and that Dobby was not to let his Hermy go back to the Manor." He shook as the last word left his mouth as if remembering something foul.

"I don't care what he said! You have to take me back!"

Suddenly, Dobby tilted his head as if someone in the distance were telling him something only he could here. "Dobby is sorry, Miss," he whimpered before snapping his fingers and disappearing with a crack.

Hermione stared at the blank space of air where Dobby had just been, her blood pressure rising rapidly with every passing second.

"There are people coming out of the cottage," Luna said, dreamily pointing over Hermione's shoulder. "I think I am going to help Mr. Ollivander over to them. He's quite ill, you see." And without a second more, she hefted the frail man's arm over her shoulder and began helping him walk across the expanse of beach and sand dunes.

Still frozen, Hermione stayed where she was, looking stupidly at space where Dobby had been. He was back there. Harry was at the Manor without her and with little to no protection. Thoughts were racing through her mind as she quickly formed plans of rescue and discarded them just as quickly as images of capture, brutal torture, and death played sick games on her imagination. She had never been more worried and terrified in her life.

Her thoughts, however, kept snagging on a single thought.

Why had he stayed behind in the first place?

A loud crack announced the return of he house elf, this time he had what seemed to be two passengers instead of one. Hermione rushed forward, launching herself at Harry's shaking form, relishing in the relief of having her bondmate safe and in her arms. She was so happy in fact, that it took a few moments for Harry's apprehension filtering through their connection to register. It was only then that she forced herself to look through the tears stinging her eyes and to see the figure slumped behind him, unconscious.

An acidic stream of anger began to trickle into her system, spreading through her veins causing her blood to run cold and her vision to redden. She dropped her arms from Harry and took several steps around him to look at the person before her, slowly studying the platinum blond hair that seemed to glow in the moon light.

"I can—" Harry began, but she raised her hand cut him off.

"Tell me that isn't who I think it is." Her tone was deadly quiet.

"I know—" he tried again before being cut off once more.

She whipped around coming close enough to Harry that she could see the dim light on the whites of his eyes wide around their green center pieces. "Let me tell you what _I_ know, _Harry James Potter_," she said punctuating each of his names with a sharp jab to his chest. "You just brought a Death Eater and someone wearing the Dark Mark to a safe house of the Order! You just put countless lives at risk! And you lied to me!"

Harry looked at her shocked until the last sentence. At hearing her accusation of a lie, his eyes narrowed. "Because you are so innocent of lying!"

Hermione recoiled as if he had just slapped her. With a swish of her hair, she marched over the dunes toward he small cottage in the near distance, ignoring Harry's desperate attempts to keep her pace while maneuvering Draco's limp form.. She didn't even care that she was marching her way into another complicated situation altogether. All that mattered was getting away from the hurt and blocking out the sounds of his voice.

"Hermione!" he shouted once more as she reached the path that led to the front door. "You don't get to be angry at me for lying!"

She turned around, her anger becoming to great to hold her tongue. "How long are you going to hold _my_ lie against me, Harry? How long are you going to use it as an excuse to make me hate myself? Because let me tell you, I don't need any help with that!" Tears flowed freely down her face as she yelled. "I know I mucked everything up, but this is what we have! This is it! You and me, for the rest of our lives!

"I won't let you destroy yourself because you are angry with me! I would rather die than watch you go down a path of darkness under a banner of good intentions fueled by anger at me! So don't you _dare_ tell me this was the only way!" She gestured to Malfoy's floating form. "And don't you _dare _use my deception as justification for your deceit!"

With that she turned toward the glowing light of the open door, ran past the wide eyed Bill Weasley down a narrow hall, and opened the first door she came to before slamming it behind her. It only took a moment for her to realize that she seemed to be in a coat closet of some sort. A sudden rush of embarrassment took her to her knees and she curled up, wrapping her arms protectively around her own shoulders. Taking out her wand, she muttered a heavy duty locking charm and an imperturbable jinx before dissolving into tears amongst an assortment of wellington boots caked with sand, soft robes and coats letting the aftermath of the evening take her into unconsciousness.

~-*\/*-~

Fleur looked at the door to the closet with wide eyes before looking to her husband in shock. Bill held the door open, looking as shocked as she felt, ushering in a very thin battered Harry Potter and a blond boy who seemed to be unconscious. She set the bowl of cool water she had intended to take to their two previous arrivals to clean their wounds on the kitchen counter and walked to the front hall.

"Hello, Bill, Fleur," Harry said, nodding to each in turn. "I'm sorry to barge in on you so late, Dobby brought us here. He mentioned you have become a safe house of sorts."

Bill nodded, forcing his mouth closed. "Yes, of course! Come in, come in."

Harry nodded his thanks and walked through the hall and into the cozy kitchen looking completely calm—the exact opposite of the girl who preceded him.

Bill shared a look with his wife, mumbled a few spells to strengthen the wards, and followed his guests. "Harry, it is good to see you and all, but do you mind telling me what's going on?"

Looking past Bill, Harry glanced at the closet door where Hermione had just disappeared. From what Bill had gathered from his brief meetings with his youngest brother, the two had been more than close when Ron left them; however, Hermione running into a closet didn't seem to concern Harry at all. Rather, he looked after her with mild derision, as if she had somehow fouled up a grand entrance. As Harry's gaze landed back on him, the curse breaker took an involuntary step back. He could have sworn he saw a flash of red in the young man's green eyes.

"I don't mean to be rude," Harry began in a cold voice, "but Malfoy will be coming around soon. He needs to be restrained otherwise he will use the Dark Mark on his arm to call the Dark Lord."

Fleur gasped and looked at the blond with ill-disguised fear and disgust before looking to her husband to proceed.

For a moment, the man stared dumbfounded at the pair before him. He felt a twinge of fear at the look on Harry's face. Though he was the eldest brother of seven, Bill suddenly felt very subordinate. He was not used to being easily intimidated by anyone—it was part of what made him a prime candidate for his work with the goblins. Yet as he looked into the hard green eyes of Harry James Potter, he felt a chill run down his spine the force him into action with out question. Something about the messy haired former friend of his youngest brother had changed.

The boy who had left them at the wedding was not the same man who stood before him.

Bill waved his wand, summoning a kitchen chair and began muttering spells under his breath while transfiguring a set of dishtowels into heavy chains. When the chair was complete, Harry roughly lowered Draco Malfoy into it, smiling slightly as the boy's head lolled on his limp neck. As if on cue, the chains coiled their way around the unconscious boy's limbs before locking tightly in place, eerily echoing those found in the lower courts of the Wizengamot.

Now that the immediate danger had been staved off, Bill began to feel himself come out of shock enough to become properly annoyed at being brushed off. Drawing on his Gryffindor courage, he straightened his back and narrowed his eyes. "I don't mean to be rude, Harry," he said echoing the Boy Who Lived sarcastically, "but what the bloody hell is going on here?"

Harry blinked, looking up at the people in front of him as if seeing them for the first time. His eyes suddenly softened and he began to gasp for air like a man emerging from deep underwater. His gaze gravitated toward the closet door, an immense mask of grief overtaking his pallid features before looking to Malfoy's chained form then to Bill and Fleur in confusion. He dropped his head into his hands, scrubbing his face hard. If Bill hadn't known better, he might even say Harry seemed more like a lost child than the man who had just mad his blood run cold. The change was so drastically different, he could hardly believe it.

"I just...I-I..." Harry gasped, reaching a hand out for the kitchen counter to steady himself.

Taking a large stride forward, Bill got to him just as the he collapsed, wincing at how little weight seemed to fall.

"Bonté divine!" Fleur exclaimed, clasping her petite hands over her heart. "Is he alright?"

Pressing a finger to Harry's pulse, Bill nodded. "I think he's just passed out. I need to get him to a bed. Will you send word to the Order? We will need all the help we can get to sort this all out. Not to mention dealing with that one." He gestured toward the stirring Malfoy as he lifted Harry toward the stairs.

Nodding, Fleur pulled out her wand muttering a quick _Expecto Patronum_. A lithe swan sprouted from her wand to which she began whispering a message to the others in the dwindling Order of the Phoenix.

The message was simple, "Lightening has struck shell cottage, assistance is needed immediately."

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><p><strong>AN: Reviews=love!**

**P.S. The french that Fleur says is supposed to mean "Dear Heavens!" I got it from a translator, so do let me know if the phrase was misused. I am a lowly English speaking American...**


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